


Umbrellas and Bracelets

by SKayLanphear



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Emotional, F/M, Fluff, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, Reveal, Romance, adrienette - Freeform, love square, will add more tags as needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKayLanphear/pseuds/SKayLanphear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ladynoir/Adrienette/Ladrien/Marichat short stories, one-shots, and drabbles. </p><p>Ratings and summaries posted per fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'd Fall With You Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Adrien confides in Marinette that he's in love, which, naturally, upsets her. It's only when Chat asks what's caused Ladybug such distress that she admits to being in love with Adrien Agreste. It's information that shocks Chat, and sends all types of revelations careening into his brain.
> 
> Reveal fic.
> 
> Rated T for language.

Marinette couldn't believe her luck. Usually, when it came to partner projects, she didn't stand a chance. Not that she was complaining about generally being Alya's partner, but they didn't always get to pick. When it came to random partnerships, she usually had to sit by and watch as Chloe somehow—magically—ended up with Adrien. Or, the last two times, Lila. It would appear that when it came to such things, she simply didn't have the high chances that Ladybug should.

But not this time!

This time, _she_ was sitting in the library beside Adrien, a stupid grin on her face as she pretended to focus on the books they'd pulled for their research project. They had to have three textual sources, which was, naturally, the biggest pain. But Marinette wasn't the type to waste time when she had it (being Ladybug tended to interfere with everything, so she used her available time wisely) and, apparently, neither was Adrien.

So there they were, the same day the project had been assigned, alone and sitting in the library.

Marinette thought she might combust.

It didn't matter that they'd barely said two words to one another, or that Adrien actually seemed preoccupied with everything but her. None of it mattered. Because he was there, and she was there, and they were alone.

No Chloe, no Lila, nothing.

It was like a breath of fresh air.

She'd also been reading the same paragraph for five minutes. Resituating herself in her seat, she reminded herself that she was there to work, despite the fact that Adrien was only a short distance away. She'd regret it later, she knew, if she didn't at least get something done.

Beside her, Adrien sighed.

Actually, that was the third time he'd sighed in the last five minutes.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Marinette glanced his way. He was hunched over a thick encyclopedia, elbows on the pages as he held his chin in his hands. Though he was apparently reading, even Marinette could tell there was something about him that seemed distracted.

Tapping her fingers on her own book, she considered her options. Either she could stay quiet and continue to listen to his distracted sighing, or she could ask him about it. There was no harm in the latter, she supposed. And maybe it'd start up a conversation.

She could do this. Pull it together, Marinette!

"Um…" she flicked her eyes between him and her book. "A-are you alright?"

He looked her way immediately, appearing moderately surprised. Almost as though he'd totally forgotten she was there. Marinette tried not to think about that.

"Uh, oh, yeah, fine," he assured, casting her a small smile at the same time. It caused her to blush, Marinette fiddling with the pages of her book as she looked away. "Why do you ask?"

"N-no reason," she muttered, lacking the bravery to look up at him again. "You just keep sighing."

"Oh…"

Pause.

"It's nothing," he said a moment later. "I'm just thinking, is all. But thanks, Marinette." The sound of her name did finally pull her attention his way again. "For being concerned, I mean."

"O-of course." She managed a small smile of her own, which he returned—as he always did—before he refocused on his book.

Supposing that was it, Marinette tried not to be too disheartened as she went back to pretending to read. She knew half the reason she and Adrien weren't better friends was because she could never pull herself together around him. It wasn't like she'd failed to notice the odd looks he sometimes gave her, when she stuttered or stumbled around him. She was afraid to even consider what he thought of her.

Why couldn't she act around him the way she did everyone else? But she couldn't help it. It was like his sheer presence made her shy and clammy. And she wasn't a shy person usually, or naturally sweaty all the time.

It was ridiculous, and a part of herself she was really beginning to hate.

"Actually, there is something," Adrien said suddenly, jolting Marinette from her thoughts. Eyes wide, she looked his way, taking in how he stared thoughtfully off across the library, his fingers tapping on his thighs beneath the table. "And you're pretty smart, right?" He did look at her then. "Maybe you'll be able to help."

"I can- I can try," she replied, closing her book so as to give him her undivided attention.

"Really?" He looked relieved. "Awesome. I've been trying to find someone to talk to about this, but Nino isn't any help. And you're a girl so you might, like, know about this stuff." He'd reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I am a girl, yes," she said before she could stop herself. Her sass seemed to surprise him, which caused her to look down in embarrassment.

It was only made worse when he laughed.

"Yeah, sorry," he agreed. "That was a stupid thing to say."

She didn't comment.

"So, anyway." He huffed, drawing Marinette's attention again. "There's this girl, and-and I like her." Marinette's breath caught, her heart freezing for just a moment before it went pumping twice as fast. "I mean, I _really_ like her. But, I just, I don't know how to tell her that I like her, because I'm not… I've never done something like that before. And every time I've tried to tell her, something has happened or gotten in the way."

"Okay…"

"So I was thinking, maybe I'm just going about this the wrong way or-or something." Marinette had to admit, he was cute when he was blushing, even if the course of the conversation was something she was doing a very good job of ignoring. "And I was just wondering, I mean, just, like, what you thought. Because you're a girl and you know, I guess. Just, what would be the best way…?"

"The best way to tell her?"

"Y-yeah. Like, is that stuff about flowers and chocolate true? Or-or should I just ask her out or…" He was only getting more and more flustered, his adorable state the only defense Marinette was keeping against whatever else was ready to drop inside her.

"I dunno, Adrien," she said, shrugging and forcing herself to keep her voice steady. "All girls are different. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what other girls want. What's she like?" Was that really something she wanted to know?

"She's _amazing_ ," Adrien practically gushed, which did cause Marinette to smile. "She's beautiful, for one, but she's also confident and brave, and strong, and passionate. She goes after what she wants, but she's still considerate and kind. I just… She's incredible. And she doesn't put up with any nonsense from anyone. She is stubborn sometimes," he laughed to himself, "and she can be a bit rash. But she always apologizes for her mistakes, which is a lot harder, I think, than a lot of people realize. And she's always putting everyone else before herself. Even me. I just… I think I'm in love with her."

It seemed he hadn't intended to say that last part, because his eyes went wide and his lips immediately clamped closed as his face rushed red from his neck to the tips of his ears. But Marinette didn't laugh, or patronize him.

Rather, she put on a smile and pushed forward, despite the hollow, ripping raggedness that shook inside her chest. She ignored all that, forcing herself to be numb.

"She does sound incredible," she agreed. "If she's really all the things you say, then being honest is probably your best bet."

"You think?"

"Sure." The words sounded empty, despite the honesty in them. "Love isn't about… flowers or all that stuff. If you really feel that way about her, then the truth should be enough. Love is a gift all on its own—it doesn't need other things with it. Or, at least, that's what I think."

Her eyes had fallen back to the table.

"You really think so?" He sounded relieved. Marinette was glad for that. "I guess I just get so nervous when I think about telling her that I get caught up in whether I'm doing it right or not."

"There is no right or wrong when it comes to feelings like that…" she said quietly.

"You're right," he said, sounding firm as he gripped his own fist in his hand. "I should just tell her. Just do it." He was giving himself a pep talk. Marinette knew that perfectly well—she'd done the same to herself over and over, to no avail.

"Thanks, Marinette," he said a second later, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder. "You're a really good friend."

 _Friend_.

"Of course." The words seemed to expel with her breath—a painful exhale.

She needed to get away, she realized. Get as far away from him as possible. Because if she didn't, she was afraid her defenses would break and he'd be there to see it all. He didn't deserve that, and she didn't want to make him feel guilty over having confided in her.

It was okay that he liked someone else—that he was _in love_ with someone else.

She'd never stood a chance anyway.

"Guys!" Just as Marinette was trying to come up with an excuse to flee, Nino came bursting into the library with one at the ready. "Have you heard? There's an akuma attack going on at the Louvre! Alya's already headed over, but I don't think Ladybug and Chat Noir have shown up yet."

All Marinette could think was "perfect."

**oOo**

It'd been simple, for which Chat was thankful. The more incompetent akumas usually meant less time getting thrown around. Granted, he loved being Chat—especially when Ladybug was with him—but he wasn't going to ask for more trouble when there wasn't any. An akuma taken care of in only twenty minutes? He'd take that.

Besides, Ladybug seemed distracted. It hadn't interfered with the fight, but he was betting that was only because it hadn't been overly challenging. Had things been worse, he'd have been a little more concerned. Not to say he wasn't anyway—because Ladybug being distracted caused him to worry anyway—but there were different types of concern for different situations. Now that the battle was over and they were safely perched on a rooftop some streets away, he could turn his full attention to her condition.

She was standing beside him, posture rigid as she stared out over the city. Her hands were clamped tightly together in front of her, flexing every once in a while. Though he couldn't see behind her mask, he could tell that her eyebrows was scrunched, the frown beneath her seemingly distant eyes only adding more distress to the look.

Because that was what she was, he realized. Upset.

He'd seen Ladybug in similar states, but never quite like this. Usually such things were fleeting, the result of action in the moment, and were accented by anger or frustration. But what he was seeing in her now was seemingly raw anguish, like she was actually… suffering.

And then her lips pulled into a pained grimace, a single tear leaking down her mask and across her cheek.

"My Lady." Chat was closer within the moment, reaching out and gripping her shoulder lightly. "Are you alright? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Because she was crying. He'd never seen her cry before.

Sniffing, she reached up and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, taking a deep, shaky breath—as if to somehow calm herself, or regain control.

"It's nothing," she lied, causing Chat to frown. "I'm fine."

"Ladybug…" He said her name quietly, putting as much comforting feeling into it as he could. Ladybug was everything to him, was the most important, and he didn't want her to suffer. If she would tell him, if she'd be open, then maybe he could help. He knew that wasn't what she wanted—that she preferred they keep a distance—but it was breaking his heart, seeing her like this. "Please, tell me." He wanted to be there for her.

At first, it looked like she wasn't going to say anything more on the subject, her head twisting away as if to reject him. But then a new wave of hurt seem to roll through her, causing more tears to swell from her eyes as she futilely tried to wipe them away.

Still holding her shoulder, Chat reached up with his other hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, tugging her hand back from her face. Until she'd looked up at him, unable to stop the tears that now fell, unhindered, over her mask.

"Tell me," he repeated, voice soft yet firm.

She breathed in, her whole chest trembling as she did. "It's stupid," she admitted, swallowing hard as she did. "I knew I didn't stand a chance."

Chat listened, continuing to gently hold her as he did.

"Of course he's in love with s-someone else," she went on, Chat's eyes widening just a bit as the subject of her distress finally became somewhat clearer. "It's not like I was ever g-g-good enough. He said that she's amazing and beautiful and I'm _none_ of those things."

"My Lady…"

"I can't even get out a coherent sentence around-d him."

"Ladybug, don't…" He wanted to contradict every word she said. Because didn't she see just how incredible she was? He wanted to tell her, to make sure she knew, but the words wouldn't come. Because he knew hers stemmed from hurt, not from reality, and no amount of reassurance would make her feel better.

He could be there, even if his own heart felt like it was shriveling up inside him.

Her crying grew suddenly worse, teeth gritting as she closed her eyes. "He doesn't even _notice me_."

So much _pain_.

Blinking rapidly himself, Chat pulled her to him, folding his arms around her back and holding tight as she burrowed her face against his chest, hiccupping and sniffing uncontrollably as she did. He hated this—hated seeing her hurt. He didn't know who this guy was that had done this to her, but he hated him for it. How could someone not see her? Not want her? She was _everything_. And anyone who couldn't appreciate that didn't even have the right to be around her.

"He doesn't deserve you," Chat murmured, squeezing her tighter.

"But I _love_ _him_ ," she cried, her own hands flexing against where she'd laid them on his chest. "And he loves somebody else…"

"Then he's an idiot." Chat propped his chin on the top of her head.

"It's my f-fault," she said, trying to gulp back her emotions to little success. "I can b-barely say two words ar-around him. Why would he have no-no-noticed me?"

"I'm so sorry, My Lady."

"And now h-he'll probably tell her that he l-loves her because I t-told him to tell her and I'll lose him. I'm so _stupid_."

"You're not stupid," he corrected gently. "Don't think that. If he doesn't want to be with you, that's his loss and his fault. Not yours." He didn't understand how anyone could possibly pass her over for someone else, but perhaps that was his own feelings rearing up. His own defensiveness over her. As far as he could see, there was no one better. That she'd dared to love this guy and he'd dared not to notice was practically disgusting. He didn't understand how such a thing could even be possible, and it infuriated him the longer he was faced with it.

"But I want to be with h-him," she sobbed.

"I know," Chat said, ignoring his own stab wounds at her words. This wasn't about him.

Above them, the gathering clouds finally got too heavy to hold themselves up, sprinkles of rain finally beginning to fall. In the same moment, Ladybug's miraculous began beeping. They hadn't required his cataclysm, but her lucky charm had come in handy. She'd be turning back soon.

He had no desire to hurt her more than she already was.

"My Lady…" His tone was knowing.

After a moment, and a quivering sigh, she nodded. As if pulling herself together by the frayed ends of her nerves, she gently pushed herself away, managing a weak, faltering smile as she glanced up at him.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice barely above a whisper as the rain started to sprinkle harder.

"Don't be." His hand had travelled back to her shoulder as he smiled back. "You're my best friend, Ladybug. I'll always be here when you need me."

"Thank you…"

"And I'm sorry that this guy doesn't seem to realize what he's missing," he went on, his hand finally falling from her person. "He clearly needs to get his head on straight."

His comment seemed to pull some slight amusement through her heartbreak, for which Chat was grateful. Of course she was human, just like anyone else, and, therefore, subject to vulnerability, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"You're a good friend, Chat," she murmured, stepping closer to the edge of the roof as she did.

He gulped, ignoring how that word wanted to shatter his heart into a million pieces. "Thanks," he managed to choke out, as she pulled her yoyo from her hip. "And if this guy doesn't quit being an idiot, just tell me. I'll teach him a lesson."

"He's not an idiot," she said, though her words lacked conviction and she smiled a little wider as she said them.

"He is," Chat persisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright, maybe he is an idiot," she agreed, reaching up to wipe her eyes before she tossed her yoyo out between the buildings. "But if anyone's going to teach Adrien Agreste a lesson, it's me."

With that, she swung off the edge of the roof, heading around a few chimneys before disappearing.

She'd left Chat standing, brows furrowed, as the rain came down harder around him.

"Wait… What?" he eventually ended up saying to no one in particular.

Adrien Agreste? When the name had left her lips, it'd shot a lightning bolt down through him that then spurred questions such as "How does she know? When did she find out?" But then she took off, leaving his thoughts reeling until he had enough calm to realize that she wasn't talking about him.

Well, she was, but she didn't know it.

Because _he_ was Adrien Agreste, even if she didn't realize it.

Which meant…

Her words had clearly been in reference to this boy she was in love with, which meant she was in love with him, right? The idea was nearly enough to knock him off balance, only the state of her emotions when she'd flitted off keeping him steady. Because if Adrien Agreste was the boy, then he'd been the one that was in love with somebody else instead of her.

Which didn't make any sense because Adrien Agreste—Chat Noir— _was_ in love with Ladybug.

But perhaps that was the wrong thing to focus on. Because Adrien Agreste hadn't told Ladybug he was in love with her or anyone else. Adrien Agreste usually kept his feelings to himself, which was part of the problem, really.

But Adrien Agreste had been struggling with those feelings lately, and been wanting to find a way to express them. In fact, he'd been grappling so desperately with these feelings that he'd become fraught enough to ask for advice.

To tell someone that he was, in fact, in love.

"Marinette…" he breathed out, blinking in shock as the rain fell heavily down upon his shoulders.

Marinette was the first and only person he'd ever told of his feelings. Ladybug had feelings for Adrien Agreste and thought that Adrien had feelings for someone else. He was Adrien. Which meant that…

That Marinette was Ladybug.

And that _he_ was the _idiot_!

"Oh fuck!" Chat muttered, reaching up and gripping painfully at his own hair. "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit!" What had he done?

Because if he was Adrien, and Marinette was Ladybug, and Marinette was in love with Adrien, then Ladybug was in love with him! But she didn't know any of that! She thought he was in love with someone else and now she was _crying_!

Oh god, he'd made Ladybug _cry_!

 _He'd_ hurt Ladybug!

He'd hurt _Marinette_ …

She thought he didn't even _notice_ her. Which wasn't true, at all. Of course he noticed her. How could someone not notice Marinette, just, in general? Not only was she one of the nicest, most talented girls in their class, but she didn't put up with any of Chloe's crap and was always more than willing to help anyone whenever they needed it.

Because, holy shit, it made so much sense! Marinette was Ladybug! How had he not seen it before?!

But she'd always been so nervous around him, despite not being that way around anyone else. He'd just figured she was intimidated by him or something. Because of who his father was. So he'd never pushed her. Of course he'd wanted to be better friends with her, but not if he'd made her uncomfortable.

But she hadn't been stuttering around him because of his father! She'd been like that because she'd _liked_ him!

And because he'd kept his distance, she'd assumed he had absolutely no interest in her!

" _Fuck_!" he swore again, tugging more harshly at his hair. He had to do something about this. He had to fix this. Because he'd accidentally broken Ladybug's heart, because she _loved him too_ , and now everything was screwed up! Because he really was an idiot! And _she_ was an idiot! And they were _both_ _idiots_!

Ignoring the rain, Chat pulled his baton from his back before shooting off the roof in the direction Ladybug had headed. Based on her trajectory, she'd been going in the direction of school. But that was also the direction of her house, so it could be either one.

Her _house_! He'd been in Ladybug's house! He'd met Ladybug's parents! He'd been inside Ladybug's _bedroom_ and played video games with her!

Ladybug was Marinette and Marinette was Ladybug and how had he not realized that two such awesome, amazing girls were the same person?!

Leaping from roof to roof, he ignored how his boots wanted to slip against shingles and concrete, legs pumping. He had to get to her; he had to fix this. He had to apologize.

He also wanted to kiss the living daylights out of her, if she'd let him. But maybe that was getting a little ahead of himself.

But she loved him! And he loved her! And that had to count for _something_!

Leaping completely over a row of houses and two streets, he landed on a chimney, skidding to a halt as he peered down at the bakery on the corner beside the school.

 _Because there she was_!

Outside, in the rain, she was sitting with her legs dangling over the railing of her balcony. A dangerous position, a threat of falling down into the street at any moment, but not surprising. Ladybug wasn't afraid of heights, or falling off banisters. Why would Marinette be?

Clothing soaked, he could see how her t-shirt clung to her, how her hair drooped. Her head hung and her shoulders shook.

Because she was still upset.

Lips parting some, Chat watched for just a moment longer, the pull of his own aching heart eventually spurring him into action. Rash, desperate action, maybe, but it was something. Better than watching her continue to suffer because of him.

Leaping down, he landed skillfully atop the banister she herself sat on, though he was perched on the other side. Startled, she looked up at him, their eyes catching. Hers were bloodshot, swollen, and no doubt still dripping with tears despite how the rain ran streams around them. Her long lashes fluttered, blinking, and her lips—oh so familiar lips that he'd spent so long staring at—parted in surprise.

He could still see her freckles through the spring water.

How had he been so blind?

Her shock didn't last long, mouth closing as her blue eyes turned curious. After all, he was Chat Noir and she was Marinette, and he wasn't supposed to know who she was. But he did, and he was so, so thankful, despite how she hadn't wanted him to.

But what did he do now?

The question hit him hard, causing him to flick his gaze from hers, if only to gather himself. And so his attention dropped down to the familiar, black instrument leaning up against the side of the railing, unused despite the temperamental weather.

An umbrella. _His_ umbrella. The one he'd given her so long ago, when she'd been good enough to give him a second chance—to accept his apology and believe him despite not knowing him.

She'd been the first one to make him laugh in ages, and yet, somehow, it'd taken him this long to figure it out.

Aware that she still silently watched him, he reached down with his clawed hand and grabbed hold of the umbrella's handle.

Forcing himself to have courage, and to remember her words from earlier—about simply being honest—he sidled along the banister until he was close. Pulling the umbrella up above them, he popped it open, coming a little bit nearer until they were both beneath the black plastic, which clattered with raindrops.

He had his eyes trained on hers again, as he slowly allowed his feet to dangle as he sat down beside her. She said nothing, seeming too surprised by him to find any words. Rather, she simply watched him, lips parting again in the silence.

Taking a shaky breath, Chat took in as much of her as could, before he finally managed to find a single string of courage.

"I'm sorry…" he murmured, her breath audibly catching as he spoke, "…that you thought I didn't notice you."

Her blue eyes got bigger, if at all possible, but still she said nothing.

"I did notice you," he went on. "And I don't love anyone else."

Closing his eyes, he willed his transformation to fade, zapping away in the rain before he dared look at her again.

"I love _you_ , My Lady," he whispered.

Lips parting further, her shock seemed to increase tenfold. Her hand went first to her chest, as she looked him up and down, before it gradually rose to her lips. In the same moment, her gaze was intercepted by his again, and he willed as much of himself to the surface as he could. His hand flexed around the umbrella, his heart beat fast, and he put himself out there—wholly and completely.

She'd said that honesty was the best way to go. So he'd be honest. Much more honest that even he'd anticipated he'd be.

"A-Adrien?" she eventually managed to sputter out.

"My Lady," he murmured back.

" _Chat_?"

"Marinette…"

Her hand clamped more severely over her lips, blue eyes once again trailing up and down his person. And for the first time since he'd gone chasing after her, Adrien felt his own vulnerable discomfort begin to seep in. He'd just revealed himself to her, and really hadn't thought it through all that thoroughly. Ladybug had never taken interest in Chat's flirting, not seriously. What if she was upset he was Chat Noir? What if that undid everything?

He hadn't thought of that.

"You-you're _Chat Noir_?" she managed to squeak out, her voice somewhat muffled behind her hand.

"Yes…?" What did he say? What was the right thing to say?

He wasn't sure what his affirmation was supposed to have done to her, but watching her face crumble into more tears wasn't exactly the most reassuring response. A few regrets flashed through his thoughts, mostly concerning how he shouldn't have swooped down and revealed himself, but before he could act on them, she was bolting forward.

"Chat!" she cried, her arms wrapping around his neck as she rushed into him. Eyes popping, he dropped the umbrella to the balcony as he reached out to catch her—abruptly aware that he was sitting on the edge of a banister, not transformed, while being knocked off balance.

Gritting his teeth as the view of the street below slipped into his line of vision—in the same moment he felt his own butt sliding from the railing—he used his free hand to push back, knowing he'd overcompensated as soon as he did.

With one arm around her waist and the other grappling at the railing, he fell backward. His hold on the metal slowed their decent some, enough that they only thudded to the balcony floor, as opposed to slamming.

Adrien ended up on his back, legs bent in the air against the railing while Marinette landed on top of him. He held her tight, breaking her fall as best he could. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded, but it was better than having toppled over the other way.

A moment of stilled surprise seemed to waft between them both, before Marinette finally pulled back against him. Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, she pushed back against the floor, staring down at him with those amazing blue eyes and a strip of red coating her wet cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she managed to mutter after a few seconds, her cheeks only deepening in color as she did.

Despite himself, as if the fall had knocked the nerves right out of him, Adrien grinned.

"No problem, My Lady," he replied. "I'm always willing to fall anywhere with you."

She blinked, looking him over again only quickly. "Adrien…"

"Yes?"

A small, weak smile pulled at her lips. "You're _Adrien_." Reaching up with one hand, she started to wipe her bloodshot eyes with the heel of her hand again, but Adrien stopped her. He held her wrist loosely between his fingers, uncaring for how the rain pounded atop them as he took her in.

As his own chest swelled with the emotion he couldn't hold back any more.

"My Lady," he said, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he did. So they were closer, his nose only centimeter from hers as they blinked at one another. "Can I kiss you?"

Her smile grew wider, shaking a bit as it did. As she nodded.

With a thrilled jolt rushing from his feet to his lips, Adrien closed the distance between them. He didn't care that they were soggy and soaking wet, or that her lips tasted of salt against his own chapped ones. None of it mattered. Because he _loved this woman_ and _she loved him too_ and that was almost enough to send his heart beating out of his chest.

It was enough for him to smile against her lips, to cause her to do the same. Until they were both grinning like idiots and giggling and Adrien didn't know why, but he was crying too.

Pulling his hand up, he laid it gently over her cheek, their foreheads pressing together. "I love you so much," he said, unable to censor himself. Because he'd loved her since the day they'd met and if she felt the same way, then he didn't have to hold it in anymore. Didn't have to be wary of rejection.

He didn't have to be _alone_ anymore. Because he _knew_ someone loved him too.

"Adrien?" She was questioning him—because he'd closed his eyes and grimaced against his own tears, in no better shape than she had been.

"Please don't leave me," he practically begged, the weight of his words far too heavy when considering they'd only just come together on the same wavelength. But fear was something that always came along with love, that was what he'd learned. And he didn't know what he'd do if she turned away from him.

"Adrien…"

"Please." He ran his thumb lightly beneath her eye, caressing her cheek. He didn't know how to voice it beyond that, to explain how lonely he'd been for so long. How he feared every day that his father would pull him from public school and separate him from what few friends he'd made. How terrified he was that that same father would disappear and leave him behind just as his mother had. How, despite feeling a connection with her that he hadn't had with anyone, he'd been waiting for Ladybug to sever their partnership, no matter how illogical that was.

He didn't know how to say it, and he knew that wasn't fair to her—to lay something on her so cumbersome without any warning or explanation. What if she thought he was being too dramatic? What if she thought he was too clingy? What if-

Her hand on his cheek caused his eyes to flutter open—to take in the soft, understanding look that had unfolded across her entire expression.

He didn't have to explain any of it—she knew.

"I won't leave you," she murmured. "I'll never leave you, Kitty."

He gasped out another smile, allowing himself to fall back as he pulled his arms around her. As he hugged her to him, believing her despite how his experience told him he shouldn't.

Her own fingers gripped at his shirt, her nose buried in his neck as they lay back, together, against the balcony floor.

Water continued to pour down atop them, thunder rolling in the distance.

But that was okay, because, somewhere further off, a single ray of sunlight burst through the cloud cover and swept away the rain.


	2. Seeing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Chat Noir gets knocked in the head a little too hard, something goes wrong. His eyes have remained cat-like, even as Adrien. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Marinette Dupain-Cheng notices and tells him before he can get into worse trouble. Yet, he can’t go anywhere–not with his identity threatened–so Marinette smuggles him up to her bedroom to hide. A decision that, after Adrien gets a good look at her photo-plastered walls, she might come to regret. 
> 
> Reveal fic. 
> 
> Rated T for language.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been knocked in the head quite that badly before. Sure, there'd been that time he'd run into the traffic light fighting Jagged Stone's dragon, but even that hadn't been as bad as this. Not only had the akuma used his tail to throw him three streets over, but it'd been a weight lifting akuma, so there'd been a lot of strength behind the toss.

When he'd run headlong into a brick building, he'd actually left a crack. Granted, Ladybug's power had fixed the damage, but that was quite beside the point. When he'd hit, he'd actually blacked out, which had never happened in-costume before. He'd recovered seconds later, but still. And now that the fight was over, he did, in fact, have a slight headache.

Even Plagg was a little wobbly and had retreated into his backpack to nap.

Adrien didn't have that luxury, however. He had to get to school. And fast. Before he was late for the third time that week. He was starting to get as bad as Marinette when it came to tardiness.

Blinking away a few spots in his vision (he really had hit that wall hard), he jogged down the sidewalk, thankful the school was only one more street over. Quickly making the distance, he was just about to head up the stairs at the front of the school when a flash of pink caught out of the corner of his eyes.

Whipping around, he stopped as Marinette came stumbling around the corner of the school, huffing and puffing as she did.

She really was late _all_ the time.

He paused to wait for her. After all, if they were going to be late, might as well go in together.

"Whoa there," he said as she sprinted over, only seeming to notice him at the last second. And, with her typical grace, she came to a careening stop, nearly tripped over nothing, and had to flail her arms to keep her balance. "We're already late, you know. No need to rush."

She blinked up at him, gaping like she usually did when they came across one another. He wasn't quite sure why she clammed up whenever he spoke with her. She usually got past it eventually, but it always took her a moment. He could only assume she found him intimidating or something. Which was unfortunate, as he would have preferred to get to know her better.

"A-Adrien," she finally managed to gasp out, still breathing hard. "I was just- I was… was…" Her eyebrows furrowed, words dying, and, ever so slowly, her head cocked to the side. She was looking directly at him, blue gaze abruptly seeming sharp.

It made him uncomfortable, actually. Since when did Marinette Dupain-Cheng possess such a severe stare?

Then, if only to make matters worse, she pointed vaguely at him, seeming to silently mutter to herself, before her hand slowly came up to cover her mouth. Those blue eyes got big, something like shock dropping down on her expression.

Now Adrien _knew_ something was wrong.

"What?" He looked quickly side-to-side, but there didn't appear to be anything or anyone of interest nearby. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"You…" She pointed to him again, mouth hanging open.

"What? Is there something on my face?" He patted his cheeks self-consciously.

In the same moment, two students pushed open the front doors of the school, chatting with one another as they headed for the stairs.

Their approach literally made Marinette jump. She was abruptly nervous, looking between the students and him, and back again, while fidgeting anxiously in place. And all he could do was blink in confusion. Because, seriously, what was wrong with her?

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," she was muttering, wringing her own fingers.

He reached out, to perhaps comfort her in some way. "Marinette, wha-"

His voice seemed to snap her full attention back to him. Bolting forward abruptly, she grabbed him by his t-shirt before yanking him harshly aside. Her fist was balled around the black fabric so tightly her knuckles were white, and Adrien didn't have the nerve to react—because he was so surprised—until she'd pull him around the corner and into some bushes.

"What is happening right now?" he asked as they came to a stop, Marinette whipping around on him.

He'd never seen her look so fierce, not even with Chloe.

"What's wrong with your eyes?!" she hissed, pointed directly at him.

"What?" He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

"Your _eyes_!" she replied, almost seeming angry. Or perhaps just panicked. No, spooked. That was a better way to put it.

"What about them?"

"Why didn't they change back?! You can't walk around like that! People will know!"

"Wha…?"

She growled, huffed, and dropped her bag to the ground. Rifling around inside it, she eventually pulled out a small compact. Opening it, she jerked it right up in front of his nose.

It gave him a full view of his face. And _Chat Noir's_ slitted, feline eyes.

Blood running cold, Adrien reached up and grabbed the compact, panic splashing through him as he pulled it closer. But that didn't change anything. His eyes were still the green tinge of Chat's, the pupils thinned to lines in the bright sunlight.

"Oh my god," he whispered, gripping the compact so tightly he could have sworn he heard the plastic crack. "Oh shit, oh shit. What the hell? Oh my god!" He looked quickly to Marinette, then back to the mirror. "Why are they still here?!" he whined, more so to himself than anyone, and reached up to pull at the skin beneath his eye. Like that would actually fix the problem. "This isn't good."

"No! It's not!" Marinette stomped her foot in front of him, hands balled into fists at her sides. "Everyone is going to know you're Chat Noir if you don't get those things to go away!"

"I don't know why they didn't go back to normal!" he replied, still moaning a bit in the back of his throat. "This has never happened before!"

She groaned and rubbed her hand against her forehead.

Adrien, on the other hand, was really beginning to seriously panic. Because not only was he stuck with Chat's eyes, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just discovered his secret as a result. Which meant that everyone else would definitely put two and two together.

He had to fix this.

Still holding the compact, he crouched down and flipped open his bag. "Plagg!" he whispered desperately, aware of more voices drifting over from the school. It must have just let out for lunch. "Plagg, wake up!" He'd pulled the sleeping kwami from a corner of his bag, cradling the little fairy in his hands.

"Oh, what is it?" he moaned. "I'm _tired_."

Marinette bent down beside him.

"Plagg! There's something wrong! Something with the transformation!" This seemed to get the kwami's attention. Slowly, what would normally have been entirely green eyes fluttered open. But this time, they weren't. They were white, with green irises.

Adrien clapped his hands around the kwami's body and held him up at nose level. "Plagg!" he growled. "Why do you have _my eyes_?!"

"Eh, what?"

"My eyes! Give me my eyes!"

"Your eye- Oh!" Plagg was finally blinking at him, seeming to have noticed that Adrien wasn't looking quite like himself. "Oh… Well, this happens sometimes." The kwami had the audacity to yawn.

"What?! What do you mean?!"

"It'll go away," Plagg assured. "Give it a night and we'll be right as rain."

"Why did this happen in the first place?!"

"Because you gave me a headache! That's why!" Plagg said in his typical irritation. "I can't think clearly!" That black, bulbous head turned away belligerently.

"Can't- Wha- _Plagg_! I can't walk around like this!"

"Then go home." Plagg still wasn't looking at him. "I can't do anything about it. Once the headache goes away, things will return to normal. Maybe next time, you shouldn't be so careless as to let an akuma throw you across the city."

Adrien groaned, falling back on his butt. He dropped Plagg in the same moment, the kwami floating lazily down into his bag as he reached up to grab at his hair. He couldn't go home! He couldn't _go_ anywhere. He didn't even have a pair of sunglasses. Not that he could wear sunglasses in school all day, not without looking like a total d-bag.

If he went home, there was a chance Nathalie, his bodyguard, or even his father would see him. He couldn't afford to take that risk. Those were the types of people that would try and take his ring away.

Bad enough Marinette knew.

"Please, don't tell anyone about this," he begged, glancing up at her. She was crouched beside him, calm despite what she'd just discovered. In fact, she was calmer than he would have expected of Marinette in general. "Anyone who knows could be in danger, or put Ladybug and I in danger. Please, don't say anything to anyone."

"I…" She'd furrowed her eyebrows, gaping at him for a moment before looking quickly away. "I won't say anything, I promise." Her assurances didn't exactly put him at ease—he didn't know her well enough to be granted that—but he supposed it was better than nothing. Or, say, someone like Alya finding out.

"What are you going to do?" she asked a moment later.

"I don't know…" he groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Hide in the bushes all night I guess…" What else could he do? He'd have to call his father and give an excuse—maybe that he was staying over at Nino's. He'd text. Then no one could object.

Marinette frowned. "No. Here." Reaching into her bag again, she pulled out a pair of sunglasses this time. They were pink, with white spots, but Adrien was hardly in any position to complain.

Taking them, he slipped them up over his nose, his Chat eyes immediately adjusting to the darkness.

"I can't wear these in school though…" he muttered.

"No, of course not," she said simply. "But they'll be good enough to get you somewhere safe." Standing, she slung her backpack over her shoulders before holding out her hand. "Come with me."

For a moment, all Adrien could do was blink stupidly at her gesture from behind the dimmed lenses. Because, really, he didn't know Marinette that well. She was cute, and nice, and didn't put up with Chloe's crap. And liked fashion design. But, other than that, she was a stranger.

Yet, what other choice did he really have? He didn't want to wear the sunglasses all day, or sleep in a café, or worse. And she was offering him a safe haven (hopefully). She'd never done him wrong, not that he knew. Nor did she seem like the type that would be cruel enough to use her knowledge for her own ends.

Gulping, he pursed his lips and reached out. He took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. Her hold was firm, strong even, and not what he would have expected from the stumbling, stuttering Marinette.

He chose to trust her. At least, for now.

"C'mon." Stepping up beside him, she tugged at his sleeve—as if to encourage him—before casting him a small smile and heading out of the bushes. Pushing up the glasses, if only to make sure they were still in place, he took a deep breath and followed her, making sure to stay right on her heels.

He could see the way she was looking carefully around the front of the school, Adrien feeling his nerves rise as they entered the group of students milling about. Hopefully, Chloe would already be gone. The last thing he needed was her mauling him and knocking the sunglasses off by accident.

"Hey! Marinette! Adrien!" His blood went cold, Marinette visibly stiffening ahead of him before she turned her attention toward the voices. Coming down the stairs from the school were Alya and Nino, both of whom Adrien really just needed to avoid at the moment.

"Uh, hey guys," Marinette replied awkwardly, Adrien unconsciously keeping himself just behind her shoulder—as if to use her as a shield.

"Where have you two been?" Alya asked, her attention flicking to Adrien. She was clearly puzzled by the sunglasses, but he didn't bother trying to explain himself.

"Uh, well, er, eh," Marinette fumbled for an excuse, Adrien's silence doing her no favors. "I'm, ah, sick. Yeah." She coughed, holding her hand up to her lips before making the whole display rather overly violent. "Um, so," she then reached up and linked her arm with his, leaning heavily against him, "Adrien was escorting me home. Before, I, uh, passed out."

She did a fairly good job of faking being faint, once she knew what she was aiming for.

"Oh…" Alya and Nino both furrowed their brows. "Well, do you want me to-"

"Nope! Adrien is fine," Marinette assured, jerking away and causing him to stumble after her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Alya." She coughed again, just for good measure. "I'm sure I'll be better."

Keeping up, Adrien quickened his pace to keep up with her speed walking, thankful that neither Alya nor Nino followed them. Keeping their heads low and trying not to draw any attention, they made their way through the crowd until they were standing at the street on the corner. Looking only quickly both ways, she dragged him across to the bakery.

She didn't take him in the front door, however. That was the way he'd entered when he'd been over to her house to prepare for the gaming competition. Instead, she headed along the side of the building, to a side door tucked up in a nook beside the complex next door.

Finally dropping his arm, she skipped up the few steps before dropping her bag. Reaching into the front pocket, she retrieved a pink, flowered wallet and pulled out what looked like a library card.

Crouching down at the door, she easily slipped the card along the side of the old lock, biting her lip as she jiggled it in the crease.

Soon, with a twist and a pull, the door came open.

"Wow," Adrien said, quite honestly impressed.

"This is how my dad always gets in when he locks himself out," she replied, dropping her things back in her bag. "The door's not exactly the most secure."

Nodding, Adrien accepted her explanation and followed her up the steps. Once inside, she locked the door again before raising her finger to her lips, as though telling him to be quiet. He nodded, only a little light filtering in as she stepped across the stone threshold to another door.

Around them were stacked stores of flour, shortening, and other baking products. Everything was covered in a thin layer of white dust and Marinette made sure to swish her tracks as they made their way over. Adrien did the same, hiding the fact that they'd been there as they reached the other door.

Which was, thankfully, unlocked.

Peeking out, Marinette surveyed whatever was beyond before gesturing him to her side.

"Lunch rush," she whispered. "They'll be at the register the whole time." Somehow, they'd ended up at the back of the bakery, Adrien realizing they were in some sort of alternate kitchen as they toed their way in.

Beyond that was the store, Adrien paling when he saw the backs of Marinette's parents standing only a little ways away.

"Look natural," Marinette whispered, standing straight as she headed out. Adrien did so, staying close as they exited the bakery kitchen and made a sharp right. Going along the wall, they skirted behind her parents, looking as unsuspicious as they could to the customers that could see them.

Adrien was relieved when she finally ushered him through the door on the left of the shop—the one he knew led to the house above.

"Most difficult part accomplished," she said, smiling. Adrien grinned back uneasily, still nowhere near comfortable. But soon they were skipping up the stairs and going through the door that led into the living quarters. Not even bothering with removing her shoes, she waved him up the stairs to her own room.

Once there, she closed the door and took a huffing breath.

"There!" she said, turning to him. "You can just hang out here and when your eyes go back to normal," she pointed upward, "you can make your escape off the balcony."

Because he was Chat Noir and could do that.

"Uh, thanks," he said, pulling the sunglasses down and blinking until his pupils thinned. "Really…" Honestly, he didn't even know what to say. This one girl had just saved him in more ways than one. He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if he'd walked into class, totally oblivious. Everything, and he meant everything, would have been ruined.

In a way, he owed her his life—because, sometimes, he felt like being Chat Noir was the only time he was living.

"Um, sure." She shrugged, light redness flushing her face as she glanced down at the floor. She toed the hardwood, looking thoughtful, and Adrien fiddled with the sunglasses.

Until, finally, he dared look around, if only to get some kind of distraction from the elephant in the room.

Which was when he noticed it. All of it.

As if on cue, her own head snapped up at the same time, blue eyes wide as realization struck her.

Because, behind her—taped and tacked all over her walls—were pictures.

Of him.

Adrien blinked, initially unsure what to make of the display. While Marinette, horror tripping into her expression, turned a shade of red so dark it could rival Ladybug's suit.

"Oh god…" she whispered. "You're Adrien Agreste…"

Yes. Yes he was.

She said as much as though she'd forgotten.

He, on the other hand, was beginning to put the pieces together. After all, there were only so many conclusions one could come to upon seeing pictures of themselves pasted all over someone else's wall. Granted, there were photos of him readily available, so it wasn't that difficult for a fan to do such a thing. But this didn't seem quite like that. Because there were pictures of him from school interspersed as well, which added a personal touch. Like she'd simply saved any image of him she could get her hands on.

It was… a little strange. But also not really that strange. That was what people did when they had crushes, right? Not like she had anything there that she shouldn't, or that was violating his privacy.

He eventually decided he was flattered.

"Oh _god_ …" she groaned, covering her face with her hands as she sank down into a huddled crouch. There was nothing she could do, after all. He'd seen it and there was no erasing that fact.

Clearly, she was mortified, little whimpers of distress echoing from her throat as she tried to disappear in plain sight.

Adrien smiled just a bit, a slight blush coating his own cheeks. With the exception of Chloe, who didn't count, he'd never learned of anyone having a crush on him before. It explained a lot, he realized. Why Marinette always got so nervous around him, but never anyone else.

And here he'd almost thought that she _didn't_ like him.

He should probably say something.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured, stepping forward. Laying the sunglasses on her desk, he accidentally knocked her mouse, causing her monitor to blink awake. He was her desktop background too, looped together with hearts.

Cute, sure, but only worse for her. Or so he imagined.

He'd hate to be caught in a similar situation.

"Mari, hey, it's alright, really." He bent down beside her, reaching out and laying a hand on her back. "I'm- I'm touched. It's very flattering. I had no idea you felt that way about me."

His acknowledgement of her feelings only made it worse, Adrien freezing stiff when he realized that, not only was she trying to hide behind her hands, but she'd begun to sniff.

She was crying.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he murmured, rubbing her back. "Please, Mari, don't cry." He didn't know what to do. How did one comfort another through this type of situation? Especially when he was, sort of, the cause of it. But no amount of soft words or back-rubbing seemed to be doing any good. She still stayed curled up, hands covering her face and sniffing quietly.

Looking around, Adrien tried to find something, anything, that would help. Eventually, his sharpened vision caught on the corner of a small, cardboard box poking through the banister rails above his head. He wasn't positive, but he thought maybe it was a tissue box.

Standing, he headed quickly to the stairs, climbing up to her loft. He'd been right, it was a tissue box, and he leaned down on the end of her bed in order to reach it.

Which was when he saw the doll.

Of course, he knew she made dolls—he and Ladybug had dealt with the consequences of such previously. And he'd seen a few of the homemade pieces on her desk down below. But not Chat Noir.

Because Chat Noir was up by her pillow, laying beside it haphazardly.

Quite as though she slept with it.

She didn't sleep with a Ladybug doll, like he imagined so many others did. It was Chat Noir she'd picked. And, pausing for just a second, Adrien registered a swell of affection in his chest before he stretched out and grabbed the doll along with the tissue box.

Clambering back down the stairs, he saw that Marinette had not moved as he bent down beside her. He set the tissue box at her feet, before lightly squeezing the Chat Noir doll and holding it up in front of his face.

He cleared his throat. "C'mon now, Princess," he said, moving the doll's arms like a puppet and putting as much Chat into his voice as possible. "No point in crying over spilled milk. That Agreste creampuff seems like he's a purrrity great cat, so I doubt he's feline offended that you like him so much."

His efforts got him the reaction he was hoping for, Marinette daring to peek up at him from between her fingers.

He smiled at her, waving the doll as if to lure her further with the sight of it.

Relief flooded through him when she finally looked up fully, wiping her eyes before she reached out and delicately took the doll. She hugged it to her chest, forming her own weak smile despite the redness still plaguing her features.

"Thanks, Chat Noir," she managed to mutter. "I guess you'd probably know best…"

"I would never kit about such things, I paw-mise," he swore, crossing his heart with his finger.

"Besides, he's not any better." Plagg had floated up out of his bag, hovering in front of them with his little arms crossed. Adrien pursed his lips—because it probably wasn't every day that anyone saw an actual fairy. He hoped Marinette wasn't too weirded out by him. He kind of wished the kwami had stayed in his bag and slept the entire afternoon away. That seemed more his M.O. anyway.

"You should see his Ladybug shrine," Plagg went on, snickering when Adrien's eyes widened. "He keeps it all in his giant closet—posters, pictures, magazine clippings. Dolls."

"Those are collectables," Adrien hissed. "Also, Plagg, _shut up_!"

"He keeps the Ladyblog open twenty-four seven," Plagg continued on, Adrien reaching out to grab him, only to be evaded. " _He_ even blogs about her."

"You're not helping!" Adrien replied, blushing himself. But he was also afraid of what Marinette would think. He'd just found out about her liking him—she didn't need to know about his own crush. Especially with the knowledge that he was Chat Noir, and so his feelings for Ladybug weren't exactly illogical or fan-based.

But, instead of upsetting her, Adrien was surprised to see that she was smiling. She was trying to hide it behind her hand, but such efforts were to little avail. Still clutching the Chat Noir doll to her chest, she sat back on her butt, crossed her legs, and giggled. Not fully, but enough to make Adrien uncomfortable.

And kind of offended. He hadn't laughed at her.

"You shouldn't say those kinds of things out loud," Marinette pseudo-scolded, holding out a hand for Plagg. Without a second thought, the treacherous kwami sat down atop her palm, Adrien glaring as best he could at the little black smudge. "That's very embarrassing." Her tone was quiet and somewhat teasing, but clearly referencing herself as well.

"Yes, well," Plagg shrugged his little shoulders, "now you're even."

Adrien groaned.

Marinette, on the other hand, curled her thumb around and petted Plagg on the nose. "You're a naughty kwami, aren't you?"

"He is!" Adrien agreed through gritted teeth. "He's probably the wor-"

For a moment, his brain froze, reeling back almost violently.

"Wait…" He narrowed his eyes, not bothering to hide his suspicion. "How do you know that word?" Recalling the last little while, he was pretty sure he'd never said "kwami." And, as far as he could remember, no such term had yet to show up in any reports.

That was a word only he and Ladybug would know.

Marinette didn't answer right away, still holding Plagg in one hand and clutching the Chat Noir doll in the other. She did, however, bite her bottom lip, a new layer of redness surfacing across her nose and cheeks. She peered up at him from beneath long lashes, blue eyes big above her light smattering of freckles.

Pretty eyes. She'd always had pretty eyes.

Ladybug had pretty eyes too.

Adrien gaped, his own gaze widening as realization slammed into him, almost like a punch to the face. "La- _Ladybug_?!" he managed to sputter out, voice cracking as he did.

She didn't answer, instead looking away almost guiltily as she pulled the Chat Noir doll toward her face, hiding her chin and mouth behind his stuffed, blonde head.

But that didn't mean the room was silent.

"Hello, Adrien!" a tiny, high-pitched voice interjected. Snapping his head up, Adrien held out his hands just in time for a little, red kwami with black spots to settle there. "Marinette talks about you _all_ the time," she went on, Adrien gaping just a bit. "It's so great that you're Chat Noir. Now she doesn't have to feel bad about liking both of you!"

"Be quiet, Tikki," Marinette muttered from behind her doll's head. "I never said I liked Chat Noir."

"It's pretty obvious though," Tikki said resolutely.

Adrien was still trying to digest the whole situation. But, really, it explained a lot. Why Marinette had immediately yanked him aside, and why she hadn't been bothered by his situation. Why she'd gone to such lengths to get him somewhere safe.

She wasn't just Marinette—the cute girl that sat behind him and who was always willing to help anyone in need. She was also his partner, the love of his life. The one and only, Ladybug.

He was sitting in _Ladybug's_ bedroom, holding _Ladybug's_ kwami.

It was Ladybug that had pictures of him taped all over her wall, and who slept with a Chat Noir doll beside her pillow. Maybe not even beside her pillow. Maybe she held it—maybe she _cuddled_ it.

Ladybug had a huge, giant _crush_ on him. By the look of it, one to rival his own on her. And he was pretty sure he was in love with Ladybug, so that said a considerable amount.

Then, to top it off—as if to only make things better—her real identity was one of the most amazing girls he went to school with. Strong, confident, beautiful. He was kind of ashamed he hadn't seen it before.

There was also the added bonus that, if anyone had found out his identity, it was probably best to have been his partner.

"My Lady…" he eventually murmured, voice breathy.

She still hid behind her doll, a tentative, almost uncertain smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Hi, Kitty…" She was biting her lip again, inside her grin. "Sorry you hit your head so hard earlier…"

That was the last thing on his mind in that moment. She could see his Chat eyes all she wanted as far as he was concerned.

Despite the fact that he now had Ladybug's identity—that he had that which he'd most wanted—he could think of nothing else to say. She was there, and he was there, and she liked him. Ladybug _liked_ him. Really, that was all his brain kept repeating. And was what finally spurred him to take action, unconscious though it may have been.

Tikki had flitted away, as had Plagg, leaving Adrien's hands free. Reaching out, he gently pushed the Chat Noir doll from in front of her, his eyes immediately dropping to her lips. Those _lips_ , which he'd fantasized about for months. Dreamed about, even. How had he not seen if before?

He felt almost dizzy, staring at her then, his attention flicking back up to meet her own gaze. He was pretty sure his pupils were huge, focused on her as he was.

Finally, words dared bubble up between his lips, Adrien only vaguely aware of how closely he'd leaned toward her, and that his hand was resting on her shoulder.

"I want to kiss you," he said, voice quiet and quite serious.

She visibly swallowed, clutching her doll as her breath caught.

"O-okay," she murmured.

Leaning down, Adrien didn't waste any time. He'd wanted this for too long to have the frame of mind to be hesitant. Rather, he caught her lips with his own, breathing her in sharply as he did. She practically gasped against him, but didn't lean away.

Hand graduating from her shoulder to caress her cheek, he closed his eyes as he tasted her, heart feeling like it might beat right out of his chest at the contact. And when she kissed him back, a little part of him jolted with internalized lightning.

Her lips were soft, but adamant, and pulling at his own with the same vigor he felt thrumming inside his own chest.

It was only when he could feel the pinpoint pressure of air loss that they broke apart, both of them breathing heavily as he nuzzled his nose against hers. He still held her cheek, his other hand having found its way to her hip.

He grinned, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke. "Now I don't have to worry about the fact that I liked both of you either…" he whispered.

Marinette smiled, finally dropping the Chat Noir doll as she laid her hands on his chest. She laughed then—despite how he began peppering light kisses all around her lips—and he was pretty sure it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw this idea floating around tumblr and thought I'd get in on it :D Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought ;)


	3. A Beautiful Sight

_(I'll add a proper summary later, too busy now. Know that it's about Blind!Adrien/Chat Noir and that it's a reveal fic)_

_Rated T._

 

It'd been immature—he knew that. But sometimes it was just too much to take and he knew that if he went home miserable and upset, Nathalie would say something to his father. Going to public school was tough, but that didn't mean he wanted to quit. Still, some days were worse than others.

Which made being Chat Noir that much more tempting. He was abusing his power, using Plagg as a way to escape, and he knew he shouldn't be doing it, but he hadn't been able to sleep. Not after such a horrible day.

It'd started with the whispering. The voices hadn't been familiar, so he hadn't known who they were, but that hadn't meant their words were any less hurtful. Really, he should have known better than to listen upon realizing what the topic of conversation had been. Past experience had taught him that—over and over and over again.

_"If you look close enough, you can see where they photoshopped his eyes."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Look, that bit of blurriness right there."_

_"Oh! Wow! I kind of feel like that's cheating or something though."_

_"All models get photoshopped."_

_"Yeah, but he can't even look at the camera. Too bad too—his eyes are so pretty…"_

_"I know! But I can't stand to look at him in real life. It's just… weird."_

_"Cuz he never really looks at you, right?"_

_"Yeah. It's unnerving. Creeps me out."_

Just thinking about it made Chat purse his lips, heels banging on the side of his brick perch. He knew he should ignore it, but that was easier said then done. He made efforts too "look" at people when they were talking, but apparently he wasn't successful. And it was that thought process, after listening to such comments, that had ruined his afternoon shoot. He'd been so self-conscious in his attempts to follow the clicking of the camera that he'd, apparently, lost all his modeling appeal.

Something about craning his neck strangely every time he tried to "look" at the camera.

A failed endeavor, in any case. And one of the worst photoshoots he'd ever had. It was so bad that the photographer had called his father and advised they do another—to make up for his lackluster performance. No, his father hadn't been pleased and Adrien had only felt all the worse for it.

If there was anything he hated, it was when his disability interfered with the lives of others. He tried so hard not to get in the way—to pull his own weight. But sometimes it was like life worked against him. Bad luck, maybe.

Being Chat Noir seemed fitting, in that respect.

But being Chat Noir was more good luck to him than bad, no matter the stereotypes he'd never really understand. Chat Noir gave him freedom, gave him strength. No, being a superhero didn't get him treated like everyone else, but being special for saving the day was a far stretch from being coddled by everyone around him. After all, the only person who knew _Chat Noir_ was blind was Ladybug, and she'd stopped treating him with kid-gloves after his, er, last blow-up at her. They'd made up of course, but he still felt bad. He shouldn't have yelled at her, or left on his own. But she'd stopped doubting him after, both of them apologizing for their behavior.

So now he had two. Two people, that was, who treated him like a _person_ and not a porcelain doll. Ladybug, and Marinette. Nino tried, but was still struggling with the whole over-worrying bit. Not that Adrien didn't appreciate his efforts.

He knew it was hard, understanding those who were different than oneself. Sometimes he wondered why it'd been so easy for Marinette. He'd never met anyone like her. She wasn't afraid to ask him questions about being blind or acknowledge the disability in frankness. These days, he was so attuned to her that he could single out her footsteps in a hall full of students, and knew her laugh three classrooms away.

It helped, too, that she was a huge Chat Noir fan. She'd never cared much about his modeling, instead preferring his exploits as Chat. Of course, she didn't know he was Chat, but that was quite beside the point. The only bad thing was that she "shipped" Chat Noir and Ladybug hardcore. And while Adrien had the utmost respect for Ladybug, he was far more interested in Mari. Though, he could admit her Chat Noir and Ladybug erotica was always entertaining, if not… rather graphic.

Ears perking, Chat lifted his head from where it'd been bowed, the air around him shifting. Like dominos, each echo of her steps flitted through his senses—how the light breeze wisped around her and the sounds of cars below echoed against her figure. Though she was quiet, he could pick up the way her breath left her lips, dancing through the air toward him. And how her arms swayed lightly at her sides, working like a well-tuned percussion ensemble. Each move she made fell into a different beat, but it all thrummed in unison—the same key, same tempo. A song he'd memorized months before, and that he knew how to merge with effortlessly.

Sometimes he wished he had super-heightened senses when he was Adrien, if only so he could listen to Marinette so acutely. He wanted to "see" her the same way he could see Ladybug.

"Trying to sneak up on me?" he asked as she stretched onto the ledge beside him. She sat down a second later, her legs arcing down through the air like windmill blades, before her ankles thumped against the brick.

"Like I could," she said simply.

"I'd see you coming a mile away," he replied, grinning. "Cat vision, you know."

"Uh huh, sure."

"I know you're rolling your eyes at me."

"Then you clearly know you deserve it."

Her attitude kept him smiling. Until more of those words came slicing through his thoughts again.

_"It's kind of weird how he smiles, you know?"_

_"How he smiles to himself? Yeah, I've noticed that too."_

Since when was it a crime to smile?

Pushing the expression away, Chat took a deep breath. He knew Ladybug was watching him—he could feel the familiar weight that told him as much—but he didn't comment.

"What are you doing up here all by yourself?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

He shrugged. "Just… wanted to get away."

"From what?"

Life. Not that he didn't have appreciation for the life he led, but it could be so suffocating. Chat Noir was anything but that. Yet, he wouldn't say as much—that wasn't a burden he wanted to put on her. He'd deal with it, just as he always had.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't ask her opinion.

"Do you think I smile too much?" he asked abruptly.

"Smile? Too much?" She shrugged—he knew she did. "I didn't know that was possible."

At least one person was on his side.

She cocked her head, the air around her pigtails shifting and giving the gesture away. "Why?"

"Just… It's stupid, don't worry about it."

"Chat…"

Despite her concerned tone, he didn't reply. He wasn't sure whether he wanted her to drop the subject or not. All he _really_ knew was that he didn't want to address it himself.

He should have known he wouldn't have to.

"I can tell something is bothering you," she said a moment later. "It's written all over your face."

He pursed his lips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means just what I said. You're upset and I can see it."

"I'm not upset."

"Don't lie. You can't hide it."

"You don't know that…"

She sighed. "You keep your feelings on your sleeve, Chat. I can read you like an open book."

"Well, sorry I can't see to know what I look like," he snapped, hunching as he did.

"I- Chat…" She paused, her fingers tapping on the ledge as a few cars down below honked rudely into the night. "I didn't mean it like it was a bad thing," she muttered. "That's… That's one of the things I like best about you."

His eyebrows furrowed, head turning in her direction. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, just… that…" She was uncomfortable—he could hear it in the tone of her voice. "I never have to guess with you. If you're happy, you smile. If you're sad, I can see it. It's nice because, well… most people aren't that honest."

"Honest?"

"Yeah." Was she fiddling with her fingers? He bet she was. "You never wear a mask—figuratively I mean—and I appreciate that. I hate when people lie, and I know you never do that. So I feel... safe… trusting you."

"Really?" he asked quietly.

"You smile when you're happy," she replied softly. "You'd be amazed how many people don't do that."

Warmth blossomed in his chest, the grin that spread across his face no longer shadowed in doubt. At least, not so long as she was the only one there. "So… you don't think I smile too much?"

"No. You smile when you want to, which is a luxury most people don't have."

"Do you… hide smiles, My Lady?"

"I- Sometimes." Another deep breath. "But never around you."

"Are you smiling right now?" he asked deviously.

" _Maybe_." Her tone turned haughty. "Why do you care anyway, huh?"

"Why shouldn't I? I'm sure you have a very purr-ity smile, My Lady."

"You can't know that for sure," she replied jokingly. "Maybe my smile is horrible."

"I fine that very hard to believe. I'm certain it's lovely."

"You're certain?"

"Pawsitive, but," he raised his hand, flexing his clawed fingers, "if you don't believe me, all you have to do is let me see for myself." The pads of his gloves had enhanced touch, just like his ears had heightened hearing and his mask gave him an acute sense of smell.

"What? Let you… Let you touch my face?" she asked, abruptly quiet, which caused Chat to frown. He hadn't intended to make her uncomfortable.

"Only if… that's okay," he replied, pulling his hand back a bit. "I mean, I get that it's kind of weird for some people. I just- I'd like to know what you look like, My Lady."

"It's not weird," she murmured. "There's- There's a boy at my school, a friend of mine. He's blind too. And he's… touched my face before."

"Oh." Chat didn't know what that meant. She still sounded hesitant, and so he didn't reach out toward her. Rather, he laid a single claw on his chin thoughtfully, anxiously waiting for some sign about what he should do. He couldn't read her expression—but he could sense a bit about her posture.

Was she tense?

"Um, well…" She audibly swallowed. "I guess- you- uh…" There was a slight shake to the deep breath she took. "Actually, I don't think it's… it's a good idea…"

"Oh…"

"Not because I'm bothered by it or-or something," she corrected hastily. "It's just, we're supposed to keep our identities secret, so we probably… shouldn't…"

"Right, of course…" Chat's hand fell back to his lap. "I get it."

"I'm sorry, Chat."

"No, it's fine." He smiled, wondering if the expression looked fake. He was always hearing about that—fake smiles. It felt like a lie on his face. "I should probably go anyway—it's late."

"Yeah…"

"Until next time, My Lady." He bowed just a bit.

"Um, bye, Kitty." She sounded like she wanted to say more, but he didn't give her the chance. Pulling his legs up under him, he waved shortly in her direction before he bounded to the building parallel.

He wondered, vaguely, if he'd have looked back—had he been able to see.

He was thankful he couldn't.

**oOo**

"It's awfully… direct," he said, fingers running along the bumps on the page. Beside him on the steps, Marinette groaned, before he heard the way her body flopped back on the concrete. "Not that it's bad," he continued. "Just straightforward." To the point, so to speak.

"Apparently I overshot my goal," she muttered.

"What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head just a bit so he'd be able to hear her better. Sometimes he wished he had his Chat Noir senses all the time. Not that his senses weren't already heightened, but being Chat gave him abilities that were tenfold. Mostly, he just wanted to be able to listen to Marinette's voice the way he could Ladybug's. When he was Chat Noir, he could hear every little variation, every slight intake and disparity. It was the difference between a high quality recording and listening live and up close, sitting in each section of the orchestra so as to hear each part that each instrument played. When he was Chat Noir, each sound was more than simply that—it was a cascade of ups and downs, layers and pieces.

It was so different, in fact, that he sometimes wondered—were he to hear her as Adrien—if he'd even recognize Ladybug. Or, were he Chat, if he'd recognize Marinette (just as one example).

"People on the internet were telling me I was too descriptive," she explained, Adrien cocking an eyebrow.

"You post your Ladynoir erotica on the internet?"

"Shhh," she hissed, the location of her voice telling him she'd sat up. "Don't say that so loud."

"Sorry, sorry." He laughed, supposing they were still at school, even if it was lunch.

"Yes, I do," she confirmed. "It's a good way to get feedback. And I'm far from the only one, so don't criticize."

"I wasn't," he assured. "Just surprised."

"Ugh, but this is so not what I wanted to hear," she went on, moaning. "One minute I'm too descriptive, now I'm too direct."

Adrien remained quiet for a moment, simply listening to her breathe before he spoke again. "I think it has less to do with the number of words you use and more to do with how you use them." He ran his fingers over some of the braille again. "I think your writing style is fine, but it… it needs tension."

"Tension?"

"Yeah. You make it too easy," he went on. "So that makes it seem wordy, maybe, or too direct. Personally, I like your original style, not this, but I think if you added more tension, it'd all balance out."

"What kind of tension?"

"Well, like…" He took a deep breath as he considered. "Ladybug never makes it hard for Chat Noir."

"Hard, huh?"

Adrien grinned. "An unintentional pun, I promise."

"If you say so…"

"As I was saying, she just gives right in and than it's all sex. And while that's fine, if you don't take the time to create tension beforehand, how are people going to be invested?"

"Invested?"

"Yeah. Emotionally and stuff. You write like… like it's inevitable Chat Noir and Ladybug get together."

"Oh… You don't think it is inevitable?"

"Chat Noir and Ladybug?" he asked incredulously. "I dunno. But that doesn't matter. Whether you think they'll do this kind of stuff or not, you still have to keep your readers guessing. Otherwise, they know how it's gonna end."

"I guess that makes sense."

Carefully, he folded her notebook closed and held it out in her direction. She took it after a moment, Adrien locating his folded cane beside his thigh before he pulled it into his lap.

"I think you should go back to your own style though," he recommended. "I liked it better than this." Her silence seemed to imply more speech on his part. "Your description is what I liked most about it. You used all senses and I think that makes it better."

"You think maybe you're a little biased?" she joked.

He grinned again. "Maybe. But it's nice, reading something that doesn't rely wholly on sight. It's more relatable." Abruptly struck, he frowned curiously. "Actually, now that I think about it, you hardly ever use sight in your stories."

"W-well, they're usually in the dark… or something."

"I guess that's true." He didn't say anything about it being more realistic. She didn't know Chat Noir was blind. But it was a detail he found himself appreciating nonetheless.

"Besides, I… I think there are lots of other senses that are better for this kind of thing," she defended. "Touch, for one. And- And listening. Staring at someone while you do this kind of stuff is probably, I dunno, uncomfortable or something."

Adrien found himself grinning again. "Funny, I always hear it's more uncomfortable when people _don't_ look at you."

"Maybe in everyday life, but normally eye contact is limited to, like, intensity in these sorts of situations."

"And you know so much about that?" he teased.

"Shut up. I _read_."

Not that he'd ever admit he was thankful for her lack of experience.

"Hey, Mari?" he started, his tone implying a change in subject. "Does it make you uncomfortable, that I don't look at you when we talk?"

"Uncomfortable?" she questioned. "No. Why?"

"I just… never mind."

"Adrien…?"

He sighed. "I heard some girls talking yesterday," he admitted. "They said that… that it made them nervous, that I never looked directly at them. They said it was 'creepy.'"

She didn't respond right away, as if digesting his words. Or so he assumed. Thoughtfulness was usually why Marinette got quiet in conversation.

"Well, they're stupid," she said simply. "They're just mad because they _want_ you to look at them and you don't."

He managed a small grin. "That's cuz I _can't_."

"Yes you can," she reasoned, her hand laying over his a second later. Accustomed to such touching, Adrien didn't object when she pulled his fingers up. And he _definitely_ didn't object when she laid them against her cheek.

He knew her face better than his own—it was engrained in his memory. Those soft, round cheeks, her petite, delicate nose. Those long lashes that always brushed the pads of his fingers. And those little ears, which generally seemed a tad bit warmer than the rest of her.

"You're looking at me right now, aren't you?" she asked quietly. Adrien's heart tightened in his chest at her words. "Don't listen to them. You can look at people if you want to—and they know that. That's why they're mad. Because you don't _bother_ to look at them."

He smiled just a bit, his thumb stroking just under her eye. "How do you always know exactly what to say?" he asked quietly.

"Because I'm a genius."

He laughed, and didn't have it in him to disagree.

**oOo**

He had to find her—had to make sure she was safe. She'd said she'd stay where she was, so he'd be able to get back to her as soon as he'd gotten her earring.

He still wasn't sure what had happened. The akuma had been tough—fast, with the ability to fly. Somehow, it'd gotten ahold of Ladybug. And before he'd been able to tackle it back, it'd grabbed one of her earrings. She'd been thrown down, no doubt in her civilian form, and the akuma had taken off.

Chat had been worried at first—because they'd been in the air and he'd feared she would have been hurt out of uniform, being thrown aside as she had been. But she assured him that she was fine, that he needed to get her earring back. Apparently the akuma hadn't seen her—she'd been thrown into an alley before her transformation had worn off. But she needed her earring back. She couldn't transform with just one.

So Chat had set out. The akuma was still out there—since he couldn't purify it—but hopefully Ladybug would be ready to do the honors once she got her earring back.

Holding the piece of jewelry tightly between his clawed fingers, Chat dropped down in the alley where she'd been before, ears perked attentively.

"Ladybug?"

No response.

But why would she have left? How was he supposed to fine her?

"My Lady?" he said again, listening carefully.

It didn't take him but a moment to pick up on it—the light breathing. Not labored, not struggling. Simply quick and… and faint.

Swallowing hard, Chat ignored the way his body went cold, instead pushing his legs forward as he crouched down in the alley beside her. No matter how weak, he knew that breathing, and he could sense the way the damp alley air fell across her form.

"Ladybug?" he questioned quietly, reaching out to her a moment later.

She was limp, unconscious, and he dared not move her—not until he could figure out _how_ she'd been hurt. On his knees, he gently located her shoulder, before dragging his clawed fingers up along her collar to her neck. Carefully, he drew his hand around her throat, along each side, the front, and as much of the back as he could. Nothing felt injured, but, then again, he wasn't a medical professional and couldn't honestly know.

He found her jaw—delicate, but sharp on the edges. He felt up along her hairline, looking for anything. A hint, a clue, but there was nothing. Laying his hand across her forehead, he registered soft skin, thin eyebrows. He drew his touch lower. Long, closed lashes, a small, delicate nose. That light breathing.

Round cheeks, thin chin. Full, yet petite lips.

No, he didn't find any injuries, but he was still jolted, his heart coming to a grinding halt in his chest.

This wasn't Ladybug. This was _Marinette_.

"Mari?" he murmured, his heart rocketing forward as the realization slammed into him. "Marinette?!"

And, of course, there was no response.

Swallowing hard, Chat slipped his fingers from her face to her ear. Down to the lobe where he knew Marinette always wore the same pair of earrings. He rubbed the jewelry gently, taking in the smooth texture—the same as the earring he held in his other hand.

Marinette's earrings— _Ladybug's_ earrings.

He still had no idea where her injury was. Part of him wanted to pick her up, yell at her, panic, but he knew he couldn't. He was a superhero and his partner was in danger—he had to keep a level head. He had to determine what was best—if there was time to call an ambulance, if it'd be better to take her himself. Which meant he had to swiftly establish where she'd been hurt.

Teeth gritting, he forced himself to form a checklist. Her neck hadn't had any apparent damage, so he instead deferred to her head. After that, it'd be her spine—all the most critical areas.

Unfortunate or not, however, he didn't get that far. Because as soon as his claws sifted gently across the thin hairs of her head, he felt it.

That warm liquid that could only mean one thing.

Blood.

The entire left side of her head was coated in it, a small puddle having formed on the concrete where her head lay. Chat couldn't tell if it was still bleeding, or how much damage there really was, but the sheer volume of blood was alarming. He knew head wounds bled a lot, but even this was extreme.

It'd been enough to knock her out. To keep her breathing faint.

To leave her heartbeat slow.

He didn't have anymore time. He had to get her to the hospital.

 _Now_.

He knew it was risky—her neck or spine could still be injured—but he didn't have time to wait for an ambulance. Slipping his arm under her back and knees, he cradled her head against his shoulder as he stood. Lips pursed, her bounded first onto the nearby dumpster before vaulting to the rooftop nearby.

He took off at a run.

There was no time to waste, no other considerations to be made. Wherever the akuma was, it'd have to wait.

"I've got you, My Lady," he murmured. "You're going to be okay." Reassurance that was, perhaps, more for himself than anyone else.

**oOo**

With the end of his cane brushing against the scuffed, tile floor, he slowly made his way down the unfamiliar hallway. He could hear the sounds of rolling carts, low voices, hasty steps, and beeping monitors. The whole place smelled of unscented soap and bleach. As he walked, he registered when someone veered out of the way for him, skirting along the hall walls.

He always felt bad when he tripped someone, but the one time it'd happened with Mari nearby, she'd scolded the victim for not watching where they'd been going.

So now Adrien tried to think like that too.

"About a meter more and you're there," Plagg said lazily from the inside of his collar. Adrien nodded, slowing his pace a bit and pulling back his cane as he reached out for the door. He found the knob where it should be—down on the left—and as he twisted it, he knocked softly.

"Come in," Mari's familiar voice issued, her tone sounding rough and groggy. Careful as he entered, Adrien wondered what she looked like. If her little intake of breath was accompanied by shock; if her eyes were "wide;" if her mouth was gaping. None of these things he knew, and so he was left to simply stand as the door closed behind, feeling far more exposed than he appreciated.

"Adrien…" she eventually said, sounding breathless.

"Hey," he replied somewhat awkwardly. In the same moment, Tikki burst out of the flap of his over-shirt, no doubt flitting off to join Mari on the hospital bed.

That was how he'd purified the akuma without her. He'd been kept from seeing her during the initial stages of her entrance into the hospital, but as soon as visitors had been allowed, he'd snuck in as Chat and snapped her earring back into place. Which had allowed Tikki to come with him while he pursued the akuma.

It'd been harder to purify, and Tikki had, well, eaten the demon in order to accomplish the feat (which meant the butterfly hadn't make it out alive), but they'd managed it. Still, Adrien would have much preferred to have his partner at his side.

"Tikki…" he heard Mari say softly, silence once again enveloping the room following. He couldn't see to know how she was reacting, which left him feeling helpless on the other side of the room.

"Is… Is it okay that I'm here?" he eventually asked.

"Uh, y-yeah," she managed to choke out. "Sorry, Adrien. Um, there's a chair over here, beside the bed."

He nodded, using his cane to guide him in her direction. He eventually ran into the legs of said chair, which allowed him to find it with his hands before sitting down.

Her breathing sounded normal again, if not tight with nerves. Which was a relief. It was the afternoon following her "accident," the doctors having decided she should stay at least two days so they could monitor her behavior. He'd learned from Alya, who'd learned it from Mari's parents, that she suffered from an open fracture on the back, right side of her head, and that there'd been worry about potential swelling. She was awake though, which was good. Or so he assumed.

Abruptly, her breath shook, Adrien supposing she really was nervous. Unless it was something else.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Huh?! Oh, y-yeah, just… um…"

Adrien's shoulders dropped. Well, this was getting them nowhere. He might as well be direct, since she was already so edgy.

He sighed, folding up his cane as he did. "You knew I was Chat Noir, didn't you?" he asked straight, aware of the way her breath caught as she froze. "How long have you known?"

He heard her gulp, another pause echoing between them before she answered.

"Since- Since a little after you told me you were blind," she admitted quietly. "It's a more… unique trait I suppose. Didn't take much to put the pieces together." Because there were only so many blonde teenage boys, who also happened to be blind, living in Paris.

"Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

This question didn't get him a response, the silence stretching far beyond awkward lengths.

"Mari…"

"I was afraid," she murmured. "Afraid that you'd be… disappointed. And because… I was just afraid. I'm sorry." She shifted somehow on the bed and he wished he had his Chat senses—then he'd know exactly how she'd moved, and maybe if it meant anything. "I should have told you. I don't… I don't have a good excuse."

"Why would I be disappointed that one of my best friends is also my partner?"

"Well, I'm not… Ladybug is…"

"Ladybug is you," he stated simply. "The only reason I didn't recognize you sooner is because my senses are so much better as Chat that it makes you sound totally different. There's nothing to be disappointed about, Mari. I'm glad." He smiled just a bit. "I wouldn't want anyone else to be Ladybug."

"Really?"

"Of course," he assured. "But… that's not the whole reason you weren't telling me, is it?" He tried to sound as innocent as possible, despite how his heart beat swiftly in his chest—spurred by his own excited nerves.

"W- well, I mean, er, it was- Yes?"

His smile turned to a devious smirk. "This is about you Ladynoir erotica, isn't it?"

The squeak that was followed by her embarrassed moan definitely made the teasing worth it.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice sounding suddenly broken. So much so that it wiped the smirk right off of Adrien's face. "You'd already read some of it when I found out who you were. I just… It's so inappropriate and I never should have kept writing it. I'm so sorry, Cha- Adrien. I'm such an idiot. You must think I'm so…"

"So what?" he asked quietly, laying a single hand on the edge of her bed as he did. "Brave for having the guts to share your sexual fantasies with the very subject of those fantasies?"

"Ohmy _god_ , don't say it like _that_!" The tone of her voice told him she was covering her face with her hands.

He couldn't help smiling again. "It's true, though, isn't it?" She'd gone to all that effort—translating it all into braille and asking what he thought—almost like she'd been trying to tell him the truth the whole time. It'd been kind of fun when he'd thought she was just Mari, but knowing she was also Ladybug made it… flattering.

Among _other_ _things_ …

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you…" she muttered, sounding far too hurt about the whole thing.

"Hey, Mari," he said, tone gentle. "It's okay. I enjoyed reading it, didn't I?"

"That's not the point," she claimed, voice still muffled.

Adrien huffed, pausing to consider his words carefully. "I really am touched, Mari," he said quietly, wishing he knew where her hand was, so he might be able to hold it in his own. "I never thought that someone like you would want someone like me."

Was she looking at him? He thought maybe she was—that there was a bit of that familiar weight—but he couldn't be sure.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

"It's… difficult," he started, words slow, "to imagine that… that someone would desire you when… when you're broken."

Her hand was on his so fast, his breath actually caught in surprise.

"You're not broken, Adrien," she said firmly. "It doesn't matter what anybody else thinks or says, you're perfect just the way you are. You're my partner and the most capable person I know. I might not… I might not have even been here, but because of you, I am. You're not broken—never think that."

"I…" He didn't know what to say—never did. Not when she said things like that. "How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?"

Her hand squeezed over his. "I'm just being honest," she whispered. "For what that's worth…"

"It's worth a great deal to me," he assured. He wondered what her expression was doing then, if she was looking away. If she was frowning. If her ears were warm and red. He wondered what red looked like. Ladybug was red too, so he'd heard.

He knew Mari's eyes were blue, and he imagined the color looked like the sound of her voice.

"So…" He shifted forward a bit in his seat. "That stuff you're always writing…" Her hand stiffened over his. "How accurate do you think it is?" There was another grin on his face and he didn't care.

"Ugh, no, stop talking about it," she moaned, trying to pull her hand from his. But he grabbed it before she could, holding her in place.

"You think maybe we should find out?" he dared to say.

What her silence implied was a complete mystery to him. Until, after a birth of long, stretched seconds, her hand finally relaxed into his.

"You're a bad kitty…" she murmured shyly.

"I can be your kitty, if you want me to be."

His heart hammered so fiercely, he thought it might pound right out of his chest.

"R-Really?"

"Pawsitive." His grin turned to a full-blown smile. "Tell me, Mari, are you smiling?"

She shifted atop the sheets. " _Maybe_ …"

Scooting to the edge of his seat, he set his cane down on the floor and set his other hand atop the mattress. "May I see it, My Lady?" he asked gently.

Her breath shook. "Yes."

Swallowing hard, Adrien reached toward her with his free hand, yet holding her own in his other. She met him halfway, directing his wrist until his fingers were gently caressing her cheek.

It was all the guidance he needed.

Standing, he leaned over the bed. Closer, until he could feel her breath on his lips.

"Are you still smiling?" he whispered, a jolt rushing through him as their noses brushed.

"No…"

She didn't give him the chance to find issue in her response. Rather, all he registered was the softness of her lips on his. The gentle, almost hesitant way she brought them together. He caught up shortly after.

She tasted like the way the wind felt when he leapt from building to building, and moved with him the same way Ladybug did—perfectly and without fault.

Then, if only to be the warmth that burst through the chill, she smiled against him.

And it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I forgot to post this here. Inspired by the blind!Adrien AU “Blind Spots,” which belongs to @qookyquiche @laundromatic and @girlwithribbon on tumblr, I think? Hope people enjoy :)


	4. The Deadliest Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> portentous-offerings reblogged that post about tampon stories and boys’ reactions on tumblr, and it annoyed me (while also entertaining me). When I’m annoyed (and entertained), I write. So here, have an ML fic about tampons.

"It'll be funny!" Alya defended, continuing to rummage around in her bag. And while Marinette agreed with the sentiment, she still wasn't sure if she was willing to put so many emotionally stunted teenage boys through such trauma.

"I don't know that they'll be able to handle it," she reasoned, frowning a bit as she did.

"C'mon, girl," Alya persisted. "Think of Juleka."

That was true, the memory stoking the low burn of anger that had been simmering in Marinette's gut all morning. Poor Juleka had been suffering as so many girls did and had required only a necessary trip to the bathroom. It'd been before school had started, all the students loitering around the campus until class. Which meant that when Juleka accidentally dropped her tampon, more than one eye caught the "scandal." Which drew in only more attention. Until a gaggle of stupid boys were dancing around the scene, poking fun like female biology was something to be ashamed of.

Juleka had not faired well, the ridicule leaving her locked in the bathroom until Rose and Marinette had managed to get her cheered up (not like they needed another akuma out of the situation).

"Okay, okay," Marinette agreed, pulling her own bag up and searching through it. "I only have three tampons though. And two pads." She pulled the assorted items up as Alya finally found her own.

"That's hardly enough for a full scale attack," she mused, frowning.

"Here, take mine too." Turning, the two watched Mylene pull six pads out of her own bag, Ivan—who stood at her shoulder—chuckling and shaking his head.

"Nice! Help me open everything." Alya dictated the whole situation, Marinette assisting in tearing the outer plastic off before they unfolded the pads. They left the sheets that protected the adhesive side, but otherwise they were exposed to the world.

"Are you guys doing what I think you're doing?" Alix cut in, crouching down on the steps beside them. There was a manic grin on her face as she eyed the large group of boys just off the corner of the steps.

"Probably," Alya replied simply.

"Well, here," Alix continued, reaching into her own bag and pulling out an entire box of tampons. "I bought these earlier, but I'd rather they went to a good cause." After all, nearly every single girl had been disgusted by the treatment Juleka had suffered through earlier that day.

"Nice!" Alya did a celebratory wiggle, ripping the seal to the box and dumping the tampons, along with all the others they'd procured, onto the giant sweatshirt Ivan had been decent enough to lend them.

"This is a pretty good hoard," Marinette agreed. "But I wish we had more pads."

"Actually…" Alya tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I have a better idea." Reaching down, she removed all the pads and handed them to Marinette. "For later," she said vaguely, offering only a wink as explanation before she turned to Alix. "Ready?"

"Oh yeah!" Together, the two grabbed the sweatshirt on either side, cradling the pile of tampons in the fabric as they stood and skipped their way down the stairs. Behind them, Marinette stacked the pads into a neat pile before turning her attention to what would inevitably become a scene.

She mourned some that Adrien was among the large group of boys that were to be hit, but supposed some sacrifices had to be made.

At the base of the stairs, Alix and Alya were swinging the sweatshirt back and forth, readying to let it loose. The gaggle of boys—there were at least ten of them—had no idea, their backs turned to the onslaught. Many of them had participated in the jeering Juleka had gone through (Marinette was thankful both Adrien and Nino had not taken part) and so deserved what was coming to them.

Finding herself at the base of the stairs, Marinette watched alongside Mylene as Alya and Alix finally opened the sweatshirt. On the upswing, they thrust the shirt forward, hurling its contents into the air. A flurry of active grenades, the tampons were flung across the clearing, scattering through the air before they, inevitably, showered down on the heads of the boys.

Initially, the attack was met with startled surprise, the boys flinching back as they were hit before looking around in confusion. And then, as if they could see their deaths upon them, a grave silence overcame the group. They brushed the weapons from their hair and shoulders, unknowing what debris they were handling until the plastic devices—their strings hanging out dangerous—went clattering to the sidewalk.

The seconds of realization were almost stifling.

Kim was the first one to release a high-pitched scream, which sent all the boys into a panic. Unable to avoid stepping on the bombs, they stumbled back clumsily, tripping over themselves in their efforts to escape the outbreak. It was like watching a heard of wild animals startled by an abrupt predator, though their scrambling was perhaps lacking in animal grace.

Their screaming and yelling, and "what the fucks," naturally drew in the attention of other groups of students, the boys who'd been far enough to avoid being assaulted gaping and shying back in alarm and disgust, while their female counterparts looked on in straight-faced confusion—if only because they hadn't been briefed on the situation.

Once the ruckus had cleared—once all the boys were safely cowering to the sides, holding one another and breathing hard as they observed the scene from a safe distance—only one victim was left standing, his best friend shifting a meter or so behind him in uncertainty.

Looking around in surprise, Adrien stood among the ruins, feet bordered in tampons while Nino—hands out as though bracing himself—waited for another assault. He stood by his clueless friend courageously, though clearly uneasy.

Brave soul that he was, Adrien ended up bending down and actually picking up one of the bombs, much to the gasping dismay of many of the boys on the sidelines.

"Guys…" he started a second later, holding his find up for observation. "They're just tampons."

The word, _that_ _word_ , had them all shrinking back again, as if the mere sound of those letters put together was enough to shake them to their very cores.

While Adrien, still perplexed by the reaction, glanced down to the tampon in his hand. "They're not even used," he muttered. "What the hell is wrong with-"

"Foolish!" Alya announced abruptly, Adrien whipping around in surprise. "They've left one behind!" Dramatically, she grabbed one of the pads from Marinette's waiting hands, holding it above her head as she tore the plastic sheet from the adhesive. "Get him!"

By that time, Rose and Juleka had joined their group as well. Alix followed Alya's example and armed herself with a pad, Mylene laughing and doing the same. Until there was a whole hoard of girls rushing Adrien, much to his wide-eyed shock.

Not that he wasn't used to girls rushing him. But normally they weren't armed with pads and yelling battle cries at the same time.

Marinette joined in as well, laughing, which inspired Juleka and Rose to do the same.

Pads in hand, they tore the plastic away from each one, much to Adrien's twitching puzzlement. They didn't body-slam him or anything, but they crowded around nonetheless and made a great scene of sticking the pads all over his shirt and arms. They hung off of him heavily, more disgusted gasps echoing from the boys watching.

"What- What is happening right now?" Adrien hissed at them, shaking his arm and failing to remove the sticky pad that was suctioned to his skin.

"Silence!" Alix shouted, pointing a threating finger up at him. "You're supposed to be dying!"

"Dying?"

"Your manly ego," Alya corrected. "We've assaulted you with feminine products, the greatest fear of all men, and so it's inevitable that you fall beneath our power."

"Oh…" He furrowed his eyebrows, before realization splashed over his face. "Oh!"

He'd been there when Juleka had been harassed and been one of the few boys that had tried to stop it. He knew exactly what they were doing.

"Oh god!" he yelled abruptly, reaching up and slamming his hands over the pad that was stuck to his shirt. "The patriarchy, I can see it crumbling before me! There is no greater ill than the unused cotton and plastic of feminine products! We stand no chance!

"Help, help!" he called, falling dramatically to his knees. "I'm not gonna make it!"

"Don't worry, bro!" Nino yelled from the sidelines. "I'll go get some red meat and a GPS you can throw out the window! Hold on!"

"It's too late!" Adrien garbled, holding his throat as he fell back on his butt, before toppling to his back. "I'm not- I'm not gonna make it! Oh Nino, it burns! The realization that women's bodies do things mine doesn't! The horror!"

"Just breathe, bro!" Nino begged.

"Ugh, I'm dying!" Flailing his arms out to the sides, Adrien scattered the tampons, his legs shoving them out of the way as he sprawled through the debris.

"Somebody do something!" Nino fell to his knees as well, looking frantically around the clearing. "Get some beard hair! Start a fight! Give him a hammer! Anything to save my bro!"

"It's too late now," Adrien whispered. "I'm dead." Head tipping to the side, he fell still, tongue lolling out as he released a final "bleh," clearly symbolizing his demise.

"Bro! _Bro_!" Nino wailed pathetically.

"Victory!" Alix called, raising her arms to all the eyes watching. "Let this be a warning to all who oppose us!"

"We will not hesitate to use the deadliest of weapons!" Alya continued, Marinette holding up the final pad before she got down on her knees at Adrien's head. In a final testament to their victory, she stuck it over his eyes, smoothing it out evenly.

"We will hang his bland yet understated button-up at the entrance to our woman-cave!" Alya continued. "You've all been warned!"

"What is going on out here?" It was Ms. Bustier who interrupted their reveling, all the girls turning to look at her. As did the boys, most of them either completely disgusted by the show or still horror-stricken.

"Their female empowerment has killed my bro!" Nino lamented. "Oh the equality!"

The girls stared at Ms. Bustier, saying nothing as she surveyed the situation.

Marinette, meanwhile, glanced down at Adrien, who was smirking and doing his best not to laugh.

"You're supposed to be dead!" she hissed.

"Oh, sorry." He went appropriately still.

"I'm not… I'm not going to get involved in this," Ms. Bustier finally decided, smiling a bit as she looked at the scene. "Just… make sure you clean up when you're done." Shaking her head, she turned and went back into the school.

"Victory!" Alix yelled again, pumping her fist in the air.

All the girls chanted in response. "Victory!"


	5. Dance Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short fic inspired by the PPAP video and art done by samieljj on tumblr. I don’t know why I’m inspired by certain things. I’m not sorry.

Okay, so maybe he was going a little overboard. A lot overboard. She was probably going to kill him, actually. BUT he'd been a little obsessed with the video since it'd come out, his and Ladybug's newest action figures had just hit the market a few days before, and it was cold—thus, he was wearing a scarf around the only part of his body not covered in invincible dominatrix cat armor (his face—he was referring to his face).

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up, even if he risked life and limb in the process.

He'd even worn sunglasses over his mask for the occasion.

Besides, with it being so close to the holidays and Hawkmoth never seeming to relax in his attacks, they needed a good pick-me-up. Giving his Lady reason to smack him was likely just the ticket.

Bounding from roof to roof through the lightly falling snow, he eventually skidded down to their regular meeting place, flailing a bit in his over-eager decent.

"Whoa there, Kitty," Ladybug said behind him, laughing a bit as she did. "Careful, or you'll slip and fall."

Straightening, he didn't turn to her immediately. With a huff, he made a very extravagant show of pulling his scarf off, snapping it in the air, and hanging it gracefully so it fell down either side of his chest. He then, somewhat flamboyantly, flipped his hair back and turned on his heel to face her.

There was already exasperation painted through her expression, arms crossed over her chest. This wasn't, after all, the first time he'd ever danced or mimicked pop culture just to bother her. He made a regular habit of it actually—much to her continued dismay. Though, to be honest, he didn't quite get her lackluster attitude. He had some _amazing_ dance moves.

As if to accent this point, he paused for just a second longer—making sure to look quite serious and contemplative—before taking a deep breath, striking a pose to the right, and snapping his head in her direction.

"LBCN," he said simply.

"Oh my god, stop…"

But it was too late. He was already dancing. Hands raised at his sides, they moved with the beat of his hips, which swung every time he tapped his foot out to the side. He didn't need music—the one time he had gone to the effort of providing music through his phone, Ladybug had burst out laughing. Which was not preferable when he could get all those groans, moans, and eye rolls instead.

Grinning all the while, he shimmied up closer to her, never ceasing his dance. Until it seemed the right moment. Reaching down, he yanked the Ladybug action figure from where he'd strapped it to his belt and held it up.

"I have a lady," he sang to the beat.

"Don't…"

He yanked up the Chat Noir figure in his other hand. "I have a cat."

"Why do you do this to me?"

He waggled his eyebrows beneath his mask, holding them up in the air before forcing his expression to go serious.

" _Ah_!" He slammed the figurines together. "Lay-dy-noir!"

"You ridiculous cat!"

Oh no, he'd gotten too close.

Her knee came up out of nowhere and slammed him in the stomach, sending him stumbling to the side while his sunglasses went shooting off. The action figures went flying from his hands and clattered to the ground. Maybe _he_ would have landed on his butt too, had it not been for the way Ladybug reached out and yanked him back by the ends of his scarf.

"You deserved it!" she hissed out glaring up at him. His suit protected him, so her hit had done no damage. Which meant he was more than happy to smile stupidly despite her scolding. "Why do you do things like this?! I'm embarrassed just watching you!" She looked quickly down at the scarf before refocusing on him. "And where did you get this?! Did you steal it!"

"Steal it? No." He laughed. "Why would I steal a scarf? You think I just dropped down out of nowhere and ripped it off some poor person's body?"

She glared harder. "You better give it back."

Rolling _his_ eyes, he reached out and gently pushed her back. "Do you really think so lowly of me that I'd catnap someone's winter apparel? Paw-lease, I am a _hero_ of Paris, you know."

"That's not your scarf," she insisted, arms once more crossing over her chest. " _I_ made that scarf. And since you have it, you must have stolen it from Adrien."

"Uh…" Wait, what? Adrien? Did she know him out of uniform? "This scarf belongs to _me_ , My Lady. It was a gift on my birthday from my father."

In front of him, she suddenly gaped.

"So _you_ couldn't have made it. Perhaps you're the one that shouldn't be taking credit for-"

"Adrien?!"

Oh shit. Wait, how had they gotten to this point again?

Coming up, her hands slammed suddenly over her mouth, as if she could honestly take back the accusation. Because, really, that was what it was.

"Eh…" How did he respond to that? Should he just deny it? Yeah, maybe that was best. "Adrien? Who- Who is this guy, A-Adrien?" He waved a flippant hand in her direction. "I'm not this- this Adrien Agreste, if that's what you're trying to imply. That guy, he's- he's _so_ lame. And not- not at all like me. I'm _way_ cooler than he is." He laughed, but his mistake came up and bit him a second later. "I-I mean, if Adrien _Agreste_ , the, uh, the- the model one, if that's who you're talking about. Obviously that's _not_ who you're talking about because there are **tons** of Adriens you could be talking about. BUT the point is, I-I am not one of them. Thousands of Adriens and me, well, that is not my name. Do I look like an Adrien to you? I am not an Adrien. Nope. No way."

Lips pooched, he looked anywhere but her and hoped she couldn't see how bright red his cheeks were.

"You look exactly like Adrien, now that I'm being forced to think about it," she said dryly, not sounding the least bit impressed. Or as shocked as she had been initially. "You're Adrien."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"My name is not Adrien."

"What is your name then, huh?"

"It's… It's Chandler." Chandler?! WHAT?! Why that name? He didn't want to be _Chandler_.

"Chandler?" She giggled.

"Yes."

"You're not named Chandler. You're Adrien."

Finally looking her way, he growled.

But she merely hummed triumphantly, twirled, and walked toward the edge of the roof.

"Hey! Wait a second!" He pointed a claw at her back, his voice stopping her dead in her tracks. "If I'm Adrien, then I know you as a civilian, right?" His eyes narrowed. "And what do you mean you made this scarf."

She visibly stiffened. "Uh…"

Good, now he had her on the ropes.

"My father gave me this scarf for my birthday, so how could you have possibly made it?"

"Er, eh, w-well…" She twitched, shifting from side to side without turning to face him. "Y-You see, there- there was this, um, there was this mix-up and- and, uh…"

"Ladybug?"

Slowly, her cheeks as red as his had been, she turned to face him. She was somewhat hunched in on herself, looking smaller than he'd ever seen her. Which, of course, highlighted the true gravity of their situation. She'd just figured out his identity and he had the feeling it wouldn't be long until he knew hers.

"It- It was your birthday…" Huffing, she looked down at the rooftop, toeing at some of the snow. "And- And I wanted to make you something, so I- I made the scarf, but… I was too scatterbrained to give it to you myself. And- And nervous. So I… I took it to your house, but then there was the akuma and… And when you- you came to school, you thought it was from your father. And you looked so happy. I- I didn't want to ruin it. So I didn't say anything."

The admission felt as cold running through him as the chill did across the rooftop. Not because of her. No, never his lady. But because all this time he'd thought the scarf was from his father, only to find out… he'd gotten _nothing_ from his father on his birthday.

Not even a stupid pen.

"Oh…" The word felt like it was being sucked out of him—soft and insignificant.

"I'm- I'm sorry," she stammered. "I should have told you a long- a long time ago. Instead of letting you think… I was just too scared."

"It's okay," he assured, slapping one of those subdued, model smiles across his face. "I'm flattered you made it for me, whoever you are."

She was gaping up at him, the redness slowly draining from her face. Before her eyes settled back into that familiar hard, determination. "Don't look at me like that."

His smile faltered.

"And don't talk to me like that either." She frowned. "You're Chat Noir—Chat Noir doesn't wear fake smiles and lie to people. At least, he doesn't lie to me."

He couldn't help it. The smile dropped from his expression completely. She was calling him out, after all. Something that no one had ever done. And, truth be told, he didn't know what to say. Which left him blinking with his lips slightly parted like a fish washed helplessly ashore.

Stepping forward, she laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry the scarf isn't from your father," she said quietly. "I didn't mean for you to think that."

He shrugged, deciding that, maybe, it wasn't worth trying to hide how let down he was. Not in front of her. "It's better to know the truth anyway…" he murmured. "Now I just feel stupid."

"You're not stupid, Adrien," she said softly. "I wouldn't make a scarf for a boy I liked if he was stupid. Well," she cleared her throat, cheeks going pink again, "I wouldn't like a stupid boy anyway."

Despite the heavy rock of a realization about his father, Chat managed to latch onto her words, letting them drag him up and away from the incoming depression. "You like me?" he asked, folding his hands behind his back and letting a cheshire grin overtake his face.

She frowned. "We all make decisions we'll regret."

"Me-owch!" He slammed his hand to his chest, but refocused on her a second later. "Is that why you're always so nervous around me, _Marinette_?"

Her blue eyes went wide and he chuckled.

"I only know, uh, so many people our age," he admitted. "And even fewer who could make a scarf of this caliber." He shrugged. "Plus, the pigtails make sense now. And here I thought you were just a diehard Ladybug fan."

Once more flushing, her lips and nose screwed up into an adorable pout, Adrien unable to contain another bout of laughter.

"Turns out you're _my_ biggest fan," he went on, knowing he looked far too pleased with himself.

Her whole body slumped. "Turns out _Adrien_ is just a giant nerd that watches too many youtube videos and can't dance."

"Hey! My dance moves are top notch!"

"Just like your puns?"

"Yeah! Just like- _Hey_!"

Waving him off, she turned and walked toward the ledge again, Chat glaring after. It was only once she reached the edge and said nothing, keeping her back to him, that he really went over all the things they'd just said.

A lot for only a few minutes. Enough to be overwhelming, actually, now that it was really hitting home.

She'd just admitted to liking him. _Like_ liking him.

Ladybug.

 _Marinette_.

Bending down, he quickly retrieved the abandoned action figures before quietly coming up to stand beside her. She didn't look at him as he did, her hand coming up to push some loose hair behind her ear.

Her cheeks were painfully red.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, turning toward her and waiting until she was finally brave enough to peer shyly up at him. Her blue eyes sparkled beneath her long lashes, Chat taking a deep breath so as to remain as composed as he could.

It didn't make total sense, but it'd do.

He held up the Chat Noir figurine. "Lady-Noir," he sang quietly, tapping his foot to the nonexistent beat.

She sighed.

Pulling up the Ladybug figure, he paused for only a short moment, considering, before he settled. "A-dri-e-nette," he sang.

Her hand came up to shield her forehead in embarrassment.

He slammed the action figures together. " _Ah_! A-dri-e-nette-lay-dy-noir."

"Oh my god, _stop_!" she whined, covering her whole face with both hands.

Grinning, he took up a shimmying sort of weave, hips rocking just a bit as he continued to hold the figures up to either side. He once more inched his way closer to her, until she finally felt obligated to reach out and push back on his chest.

Dropping the toys, he took the chance and grabbed her wrist, gently pulling her closer. As was Marinette style, she stumbled a bit and fell into him, gasping as her whole body bumped lightly against his own. He just smiled however, more than happy when her surprise turned to a disapproving frown.

"Do you really regret liking me?" he dared to ask, dropping her wrist in the same moment. "Now that you know I'm Chat Noir?"

She hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully and taking far, far too long to answer.

"No," she finally decided, wrapping her hands up in the scarf that still hung down on either side of his chest. "I don't regret it one bit."

Yanked forcefully down, Adrien released a surprised grunt before quickly being silenced as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

He had no regrets, or objections, of his own.


	6. When You Assume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this story for qookyquiche on tumblr from some of the art she drew. Basically, Adrien knows Mari is Ladybug and assumes she also knows he's Chat, and so that's how he acts and it thoroughly confuses Mari.

It made perfect sense, now that he thought about it. All the stammering and nervousness. If Marinette was Ladybug, she wouldn't want him to figure her out. Naturally, she'd been self-conscious about giving herself away, especially with how adamant she was concerning their identities. He'd always wondered why Marinette acted so oddly around him, but he didn't doubt that she'd figured him out first. Ladybug was so smart, it was only reasonable that she knew he, Adrien Agreste, was Chat Noir.

Well, he'd figured her out (accidentally of course), so now they could stop tip-toeing around one another. There was no reason to keep their distance if they _both_ knew. Besides, Adrien wasn't sure he could practice the same kind of self-control Mari had in staying away. He was just… so excited to talk to her. To see her every day. To hang out. To be Ladybug and Chat Noir except also Mariette and Adrien. They had so much they could talk about and so much they could do together.

Honestly, he was barely holding in his excitement as he skipped up the steps to the school. Skirting inside, his eyes immediately searched the area, looking for those familiar pigtails. He felt rather stupid for not having noticed it was her before. That it took him accidentally catching her detransform was utterly ridiculous.

Marinette and Ladybug looked _exactly_ alike.

He spotted Nino and Alya across the court, raising his hand to wave upon catching their attention. And maybe he would have headed over were it not for that familiar silhouette topped with blue-black hair catching his attention. She was just stepping out of the locker room, headed toward the stairs with a book hugged to her chest.

Grinning, Adrien pushed through the throngs of other students, nearly bounding into place as he reached out and touched Marinette lightly on the shoulder.

Jumping just a bit, she came to a stop and turned her head questioningly over her shoulder.

In his chest, Adrien's heart picked up, the smile on his face widening all the more while his insides felt as though they might burst.

"Hi, Marinette!"

"Uh…" She looked him up and down, blinking those pretty blue eyes in obvious confusion. Before her cheeks were doused in an uncertain flush. "A-Adrien," she stammered. "G-good morning." A small smile crawled its way onto her face.

"Isn't it?" he asked, hand still on her shoulder. "I just wanted to let you know that everything is _totally_ fine now." He lowered his voice so as to keep the conversation just between the two of them. "I know, so you don't have to hide it anymore."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Know… what?"

"Know about you." He didn't want to risk saying it out loud. "You don't have to be so uptight and nervous around me anymore. Though I kind of wish you'd just said something in the first place."

"Said… something?" she asked, going abruptly pale. "Wait, you- you _know_?"

"Yup!"

"Who- who _told_ you?" she asked, tone rather breathless.

"Nobody," he replied, shrugging. "I just, uh, kind of accidentally figured it out. Sorry." His grin turned a bit sheepish. "Now that I know, though, it's _really_ obvious. I feel kind of stupid for not figuring it out earlier."

"Y-you think it's _obvious_?" she whispered, looking horrified.

"Well, only to me," he clarified. "Don't worry, I swear I won't tell anyone. I mean, that'd be detrimental to me too, as you very well know. Because you're so smart and all." He laughed, before awkwardly clearing his throat. "Anyway! I just wanted you to know that. That, uh, that I know and, um, yeah."

"D-Detrimental…?" she murmured, but Adrien didn't hear.

"So, um, since that's that then," he shifted back and forth on his heels, "I'll just… see you in class- Or, I mean, after- after class? Would that be okay?"

"Um, I… guess…" Her expression was somewhat guarded, which left Adrien uncertain. But this was Ladybug—of course she'd be cautious.

"Great!" Continuing to smile despite the rather awkward air that was lifting up between them, Adrien side-stepped away. "After class."

"After class…"

"Right…"

She nodded, smiling tightly beneath her flushed cheeks. They held eye contact for a moment longer before Marinette ultimately tore herself away. Turning, she held her book close as she looked to the stairs. Adrien's smile dropped away as he watched her, his whole form shriveling some as those blue eyes shifted out of sight.

It was an odd feeling—like a string attached to his heart was being pulled with her, tightening between them as she took a step away. It dragged the breath out of him and left him tense. Because she was _there_. Right there in front of him. Finally, after months of wondering and longing and, just, there she _was_. Pigtails and all.

And, wow, he _really_ loved her.

He loved her _a lot_.

Despite himself, he stepped up after her. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd be angry over what he was about to do, but he didn't have the self-control to stop himself. Not then. Not with her so close and so…

 _Within reach_.

Finally.

Catching up behind her, he didn't hesitate as he wrapped his arms around her middle. Pulling her back up against his chest, he heard her squeak in surprise as he tightened his hold. She was warm—albeit stiff as a board—and smelled like freshly baked bread. Somehow, it was perfect.

With his nose buried in her hair, he unintentionally lifted her right off the ground, her legs folding up in front. Leaning back—if only to counterbalance the weight, he stumbled just a bit to the side as he hugged her as tight as he dared. And were it not for the giggles and gasps echoing around the court, he might have swung her around like a love-sick fool. But, instead, he settled for whispering into her ear.

"I'm so glad it's you," he admitted, setting her back down at the same time. Despite how he wanted to hold her for eternity, he too could feel the stares, and so forced his arms to release her.

She wobbled on her feet, finding her balance before whipping around on him. Her blue eyes were big and the redness had drained from her face. Almost as though she'd seen a ghost.

Probably not the best sign. "Sorry…" he mumbled again.

"You're _glad_?!" she blurted abruptly. So loudly, in fact, that a few more giggles echoed between those who passed them by.

Some way off, Alya and Nino were watching in rapt attention.

"Um, well, yeah, sure," he admitted. "Why wouldn't I be glad?"

"You really mean that?" she asked, taking a step closer. She looked almost hopeful as she peered up at him—like whatever he said next would make or break her.

"O-of course," he admitted, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "I mean, you're… You're _you_. You're smart and clever and talented and you don't take crap from anyone—I wish I could be like that. And- And you're also, like, _super_ pretty. No- Not that that _means_ anything, but it's still true. Especially when you do that thing where you smile super wide when you're thinking of a plan and your nose curls just a bit on the right side and-"

Much to his surprise, she surged forward suddenly. Adrien hunched defensively, half expecting that she was going to push or hit him, but was instead struck still and shocked when she reached out, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him down. Her lips smashed violently against his own, leaving him wide-eyed and unknowing how to react. Instead, arms held up at his sides, he pushed his brain to digest the situation even as her lips moved against his own.

Her _lips_ , which were soft and smooth and pressing insistently at his own.

Marinette was kissing him.

 _Ladybug_ was kissing him.

And he was too stupid to kiss her back, already regretting his slow response as she stopped the kiss just as quickly as she'd started it.

Releasing him, she stepped back, cheeks once again burning bright red.

Somewhere behind him, Chloe gasped in outrage. Alya and Nino cheered. Others laughed.

Marinette apologized. "Sorry," she murmured, her book having dropped to the floor and left her hands free to push her hair back behind her ears.

Adrien blinked. "Th-That's okay," he managed to get out, winded despite having done nothing. "Not… exactly what I was expecting," he admitted, "but definitely okay."

Holy _shit_! Ladybug had just _kissed_ him! HAPPY DAY!

She'd kissed him and he'd failed to kiss her _back_. Yet, there she stood, a shy smile pulling at her lips and nearly knocking him back with the sheer force of it.

He wanted to kiss her again. Maybe even participate.

But dozens of students had stopped to watch them, whispering and moving the gossip mill along.

Reaching out, Adrien grabbed Marinette's hand. "C'mon," he said, tugging her along beside him. She didn't object, jogging up to meet him as he directed them out the front doors of the school. Most of the students were already inside—probably because class was about to start—and so they were mostly alone as he side-stepped around the pillar making up the doorframe to the slightly shadowed area at the top of the stairs. She twisted as well, gasping lightly as she spun to face him.

Searching her gaze for only a second, he took quick note of the pink across her cheeks, which accented her lips perfectly, before acting on impulse and just going for it.

Leaning down, he pushed his lips to hers and closed his eyes. He honestly had no idea what he was doing, but she didn't seem the least bit offended by his efforts. She responded in kind, her lips moving against his own as her arms came up and wrapped around his neck. She was so much shorter that he had to bow over her to keep contact, their bodies pressed flush together as he slung his arms around her back and pulled her close.

He didn't know for how long they stood there, shrouded in the shadows of the school building, and it was only once he began to run out of breath that he had to pull back. The smacking of their lips coming apart sent another thrill up through him, her hands coming down to hold his cheeks while he kept his arms wrapped securely around her. Their heavy breaths splashed together, gazes once again meeting as he opened his eyes.

"Wow…" he said dumbly.

She giggled, that stunning smile returning to her expression.

"You definitely…" He gulped. "You definitely know how to take a guy's breath away, My Lady."

And just like that, her whole face sobered. To the point that she actually looked offended. Stepping back suddenly, she separated them.

"What did you just call me?" she asked quietly.

Which threw Adrien for a loop. They were alone so there was no threat of anyone finding out their secret. He'd figured the endearment would be fine. Was it not fine? Had he messed up? How had he messed this up _already_?

"Uh… M-My Lady?" he offered hesitantly.

Shit, what had he done?

"Why did you call me that?" she asked, tone guarded and cold.

"B-Because… that's what I always call you?" This sounded like some kind of unanswerable trick question...

"No you don't."

To which he had no response. Instead, a cascade of second thoughts assaulted him, causing him to re-check and re-convince himself over and over that, yes, he had seen Marinette. It had been her that had detransformed. Mariette was Ladybug. She was, right? He was pretty sure…

"Y-You're Ladybug, right?" he finally dared to ask.

Her lips pursed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Before, with a ferocity he hadn't anticipated, she grabbed him again by the shirt and shoved him up against the pillar. And not in the friendly, let's-kiss-some-more way he'd been hoping for.

"How do you know that?" she hissed, glaring hard up at him. "How did you find out?"

Okay, so he wasn't wrong. But he still didn't know what was happening.

"I saw you drop your transformation," he replied quickly. "Yesterday, after the akuma."

She looked even angrier, if at all possible. "You can't tell _anyone_ ," she said quickly. "You could be in a lot of danger if you do. Promise you won't tell anyone."

"Of course I'm not going to tell anyone," he replied, gaining his bearings once again. "But I'm not in any more danger than you are. What are you even talking about?"

"You're a civilian!" she hissed.

"I'm a- Wait a second." Reaching out, he physically removed her hands from his shirt. She took a step back as he did, yanking her hold free in the same moment. "You don't- You don't know- You don't _know_?"

"Know what?" she asked, frowning.

He gaped, before clamping his mouth shut and scratching the back of his head. "If you don't know, then why did you kiss me?"

"You know why!" she accused. "You said you did!"

"I was talking about knowing you were Ladybug!" he whispered harshly back. His confession seemed to take her aback, causing her to gape before she slapped her hands over her mouth and took another step back. Horror soon dropped heavily through her expression, a development that hardly put Adrian at ease.

"My Lady, it's-"

" _Why are you calling me that_?!"

" _Why do you_ _ **think**_?!"

It was her turn to blink stupidly. Looking him up and down, she furrowed her eyebrows critically, quite as though the pieces were slowly coming together, but just not quite in place.

Sighing, Adrien reached out and took her hand. Never breaking eye contact, he lightly held it up and brushed his lips over her knuckles. She took in a quick breath, but didn't pull back.

"I never intended to transgress, Bugaboo."

Her blue eyes went only wider, if at all possible. "Chat…" She visibly swallowed. "You're- You're Chat Noir."

"At your service, My Lady." Her hand still held in his own, he bowed. As if the gesture was too much for her, however, she snapped her hand back. Which only sent Adrien's spirits plummeting to his feet.

Looking him up and down, she rubbed the part of her hand where he'd left his kiss. While Adrien fidgeted, waiting for the inevitable verdict. He really had thought she knew. What a stupid mistake that had been. But perhaps there was a reason people were always being warned about assumptions.

"Okay…" she finally managed to murmur out. "Alright…"

Continuing to twitch, Adrien cringed. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew." She cast him a questioning look. "The way you're always acting around me—nervous, like you didn't want me to figure it out or something… I just assumed…" He really had screwed this up. Perfect. "Please- Please don't hate me. I'm sorry. It was an accident." His heart hiccupped, nerves biting. "Please, _please_ don't hate me."

She said nothing.

"It really was an accident, My Lady," he continued helplessly. "Oh god, you do hate me, don't you? I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have said anything. I know how much our secret identities mean to you and I- I didn't mean to mess this up. I just thought- I wasn't trying to-"

"It- It's okay." Finally, she spoke. "I'm not- I don't hate you." Stepping forward, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I could never hate you, Chat. Or- Or Adrien, for that matter." She released an awkward laugh and looked to the side. "This is really weird…"

"You're upset…"

"No, I'm not!" Their eyes met once again. "Just surprised, that's all. Really, I'm not angry or anything. I know that- that you wouldn't violate my privacy by figuring me out on purpose. I trust you, kitty. You know that."

He did?

"I'm glad you told me, even if, well, I didn't initially know that was what you were doing."

Which caused Adrien some pause despite his uncertainty. Eyes narrowing, thoughtfulness overcame his expression despite the turmoil roiling inside him otherwise.

"You didn't know…" he agreed. "And you kissed me. What did you think I was talking about?"

"Er, n-nothing," she _lied_.

Adrien crossed his arms over his chest. "I know how you hate liars. Don't turn into one now."

She glared, once again taking a step back. "Don't turn this on me. You're the one that came marching in acting all silly and almost giving me a heart attack."

"Which you now know the reason for," he countered. "But that doesn't answer my question. What did you think I was talking about? And why did you kiss me if you didn't know I was Chat Noir?"

Nose curling, her glare intensified. "You kissed me too."

"Only because you kissed me first." Stepping closer, Adrien dared get a bit up into her personal space. Stumbling back, she hit the balcony that lined the stairs, her hands balanced back on the concrete as he leaned closer. "What could have inspired you to do such a thing to _Adrien_ without knowing I was Chat Noir?"

Her glared never let up. "You're so obnoxious."

"Obnoxious or not, you still kissed me."

"Temporary insanity."

"Yeah, right." He rolled his eyes. "Well, let me see, if you didn't know I was Chat Noir, but still thought I 'knew something,' and, as a result, you practically assaulted me-"

"Hey!"

"Then I suppose I can only come to so many conclusions." Inching continually closer, he placed his arms on either side of her until they were anchored atop the concrete ledge, before situating himself so the two of them were practically nose to nose. "Tell me, Marinette, why do you always get so nervous around me?"

"None of your business."

He grinned. "Oh, but I think it is."

Huffing, she stuck out her tongue in disgust. "As if you're anyone to talk," she finally decided. "You have a crush on me too."

Words that sent his heart racing once again. "You have a crush on me, Bugaboo?"

"Don't push your luck," she scolded, one finger coming up to tap him lightly on the nose. "You don't have much to spare."

He chuckled.

"Besides," she went on, "we're late for class."

"We're _always_ late for class."

The sound of her giggle was like heaven in his ears. "That's true," she agreed, linking her arms once more around his neck. "But I only defend that to myself because akumas _have_ to be taken care of."

"I think we can afford one selfish day of tardiness." Carefully, he touched his nose to hers, their lips barely brushing. "And you're late most mornings whether there's an akuma or not."

"Didn't I warn you not to push it?"

"Like this?" he asked, laying a soft kiss at the corner of her lips.

More laughter. "No, I'm quite okay with that."

"With this?" he kissed her full on, pulling back before she could reciprocate.

"Yes, with that."

"And what about this?" He kissed her again, this time on the tip of her nose.

"Now you're being a tease."

"My apologies, My Lady."

"So insincere." Sighing, she ignored his cheshire grin and, instead, dragged her hands once more to the front of his shirt and held him in place. Just before she captured his lips with her own.

He didn't get away that time.


	7. Kiss Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finally gets fed up with Chat's flirting and decides to give him a taste of his own medicine.

She was about done with Chat's shenanigans.

They'd defeated the akuma with ease, which had left them with plenty of time for interviews afterward. It was late afternoon, and so Ladybug wasn't worrying about school or missing anything important. With her partner at her side, she sat at the base of the Eiffel Tower, a microphone in her hand as they worked together in answering the questions thrown their way. It'd already been near twenty minutes, however, and she was growing tired of the talking. Especially with the direction the questions had gone in.

"So you two have been working together a while now," the reporter had asked. "Would you consider yourselves close?"

"Of course," Chat had replied, grinning wide as he'd turned to her. "Close as could be."

An answer that had visibly displeased her.

"Just _how_ close are you both?" was the next question.

And so she knew the situation could only get worse if she didn't cut in.

"We're partners," she explained, holding the mic up as she did. "We're as close as that kind of professional relationship allows."

" _Yeowch_ ," Chat said following. "You cut me deep, My Lady."

"You're the one implying more than there is," she said straight, not trying to keep her voice discreet at all.

"Well, you know there's more to us than _that_ ," he tried to correct.

"Is that true?" a reporter cut in before Ladybug could comment further. "Are you two more than just partners?"

"N-"

"We're best friends," Chat explained, which was an answer Ladybug could have settled for if he hadn't pushed it further. "You know, the _best_ of friends." He followed it up with a wink, which sent all the reporters into jittery spasms of excitement.

"Really?" she'd asked flatly, holding her mic down as she spoke to him through her teeth. "Quit it."

"I'm just playing the crowd," he muttered, leaning a bit closer so as to hide their voices from the reporters. "Just giving them what they want. Not like it matters—we're not actually together, so why shouldn't we let them get ideas about Ladybug and Chat Noir?"

"This isn't a game," she hissed out, really beginning to grow irritated. Which Chat clearly noticed, his ears drooping as he frowned.

"C'mon, Ladybug," he mumbled, his hands balanced on his staff, which was extended down between his legs. "I'm just joking around."

Yet he looked honestly upset, which told her that she was right and this was not, in fact, a game. But he'd walked into it, really, so her sympathy was limited.

"Will you guys kiss for us?!" a reporter shouted from the back. The question only turned Ladybug's gaze seething as she glared at her partner.

" _This is why!_ " she muttered out harshly, the reporters before them all abuzz with the question.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Chat whispered, having to lean even closer to her in order to do so. "But don't spoil the fantasy, okay? You'll ruin a lot of people's ideas about us and that's not fun for anyone."

"This isn't fun for _me_ ," she made quietly clear.

"Then make it fun," he said simply. "I'm not going to do anything," he promised, leaning even closer. "I'm just going to give you a quick peck on the cheek, okay? No harm, no foul. And they get what they want."

But what about what she wanted?!

Only seconds had passed between them, but he was leaning in close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. The reporters in front of them were snapping pictures and murmuring excitedly under their breath. All of it made Ladybug want to scowl and shove him away.

But he was right, she had to be conscious of their public image. It'd be nice, however, if he could then cease putting ideas in people's heads where there were none!

He was so close, his lips almost brushing her cheek.

The cameras flashed.

And she snapped.

Fine, he wanted to ensure their image was upheld? Well, he was about to pay for it.

Just as his lips were grazing her skin, she switched toward him. In one fell swoop, she pressed her lips to his.

Not like she hadn't kissed him before.

Her move clearly shocked him, but she wasn't going to make it easy on him. Though he tried to retreat back from her touch, she followed. Pushing in further, she grabbed his upper lip between her own, leaning with him as he shied back. To the point where she had to sit up off her seat in order to remain within the kiss.

His lips were soft, albeit motionless in surprise, but in no way unpleasant. Which she _knew_ , of course, but that was quite beside the point. Rather, the _point_ was that he was getting a taste of his own medicine. She pressed closer, he fumbled on the bench to keep his balance, and the crowd around them cheered louder and louder.

Yet, still, she didn't give in. Until, finally, he gained his bearings enough to finally move back against her. His lips were suddenly slipping with her own, sucking the breath out of her as she gasped against him.

Which told her it'd gone too far—this wasn't a punishment anymore.

Eyes wide, she snapped back away from him. Lips parted, she breathed in heavily, unware of how breathless she'd really become in the few seconds that she'd shared air with him. And, to neither of their credit, he appeared much the same. Those green eyes were and he was staring at her almost as though she'd grown a second head.

Shortly after, the shouting support of the crowd pierced in through her senses.

Flushing red despite herself, Ladybug decided rather abruptly that the interview had gone on long enough. Setting the mic aside, she grabbed her yoyo and, to the gasping surprise of the crowd, tossed it up into the supports of the Eiffel Tower. She was airborne within moments, shooting up through the center.

She didn't stop until she was nearly to the top, her lungs still heaving as she found a safe hiding place among the supports to come to a steady stop.

Her heart beat fast in her ears.

"What the hell was that?" His accusing voice nearly caused her to jump. Instead, she whipped around, balancing deftly on the beam as she came face to face with his irritated yet curious expression.

"Just giving you a taste of your own medicine," she rebuked, refusing to back up anymore. She'd stand her ground just as she always had.

"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow beneath his mask, before obviously looking her up and down. Shortly after, one corner of his lips pulled up into a smirk, which only made Ladybug stand straighter. "I didn't know medicine was supposed to taste so sweet," he smarmed, taking a few steps closer to her.

"Don't you ever quit?" she asked shortly.

"I didn't know it mattered," he replied, Ladybug gritting her teeth as she stared stubbornly up at him. Because he was that close—only centimeters between them. "Why does it matter how I play? You don't play these games anyway, right?"

"No, I don't," she agreed, heart beating faster and faster as he leaned even closer, his hand resting on one of the supports behind her head.

"If that's true," he murmured, "then why'd you kiss me in the first place?"

A question she didn't know how to answer.

No, that wasn't right. She knew how to answer—she just didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

But maybe it was too late for that.

"Tell me," he pressed on. "Are you playing games with me or not?"

Despite his flirting, she sensed a grain of seriousness in his tone. Honesty, maybe. His way of asking her for the same thing. Which, really, was a reasonable thing to ask of her. They were partners—he'd saved her life more times than she could count. It didn't matter how much she hated to give in, or who else sat in the back of her thoughts alongside him.

He deserved the truth.

"I already told you," she whispered. "I don't play games."

They were so close their noses brushed, the contact sending a thrill down through Ladybug's spine.

"I'll tell you a secret then," he said, voice barely audible as the motion of his lips glided just barely over her own. "I've never played a single game with you since the day we met."

Somehow, she already knew that.

Leaning up, she pressed her lips to his again, satisfied when, this time, there wasn't a delay in his response.

No surprise, no shock.

No games.

 

**oOo**

 

She was a little surprised at her own calm. But, then again, maybe she shouldn't have expected it'd be much of a shock anyway.

Chat was her trusted partner, had saved her life countless times. And though he was cheesy with his puns and was an over-the-top flirt, he'd never pushed boundaries or adhered to the bad-boy stereotype his uniform wanted to put off. He's always been a perfect gentleman, sweet when he wanted to be, and ready to be there whenever she needed him.

It wasn't until she'd kissed him— _really_ kissed him—and registered how much she'd wanted to, that she'd realized just how badly she'd been taking him for granted.

She'd always kept her distance—assumed he was an uncontrollable flirt—but he'd been nothing if not considerate when they'd kissed the night before. And though things had quickly grown quite heated between them, he'd stopped as soon as she had. He hadn't pushed, hadn't pestered.

It'd been… nice.

Too nice, maybe.

Just thinking about it brought a small smile to Marinette's face. Closing her locker, she slung her bag over her shoulders as she turned to head out, unable to keep her cheeks from flushing the slightest bit pink as her thoughts continued to be distracted with Chat.

Maybe, deep down, she'd always known she'd liked him. It wasn't that her preoccupation with Adrien had somehow hidden the fact, but she'd always been so forcefully focused on her classmate that she'd hardly considered Chat an option. And somehow, in-between all of that, her heart had fallen for him whether she'd wanted it to or not.

But… she still liked Adrien too.

As if on cue, his familiar voice drifted across the locker room, snapping her attention upward as her heart hiccupped in her chest. He was talking to Nino, bag slung over his shoulder. And though her pulse picked up as she watched him, she found herself feeling something a little… different as well. A sort of acceptance. While her body was still jittery, her mind was calm. Which wasn't a usual occurrence when it came to Adrien.

It wasn't that Adrien or Chat were competing in her thoughts, but, as of the afternoon before, she felt as though she had a choice. Either option would be perfect. But, as if to make the situation only better, Chat had chosen her too.

The idea sent butterflies loose in her stomach, another shade of red assaulting her cheeks.

She liked Adrien a lot, but he'd hardly ever shown any interest in her. Well, in his defense, he'd never really gotten the chance—they hardly talked (a situation she knew was more her fault than his). But with Chat, things were different. She felt easy around him. Comfortable. Safe even. She trusted him. And maybe she could have found those things with Adrien too, but, as of then, Chat was who was offering. And she'd be a fool not to accept.

Yet… there Adrien was.

How many months had she spent fretting over him? Obsessing over him? Without ever finding the courage to tell him the truth? What had it all been for?

Abruptly, it seemed a horrible waste. Yes, she was going to choose Chat, but something inside her needed some sort of resolution with Adrien.

She could tell him. She _would_ tell him. Thinking of Chat gave her the courage to do so—to put her feelings for Adrien behind her.

She'd be okay—no matter the outcome.

Swallowing hard, she approached the two boys, thankful they were about the last three left in the locker room. Adrien and Nino looked as though they'd been heading out, so she grabbed their attention before they could.

"Um, Adrien?" she called, thankful her voice came out relatively strong. She wouldn't stutter or lose herself anymore. How Chat would tease her, knowing she'd had such trouble talking to one silly boy.

"Hey, Marinette!" he replied, turning on her with a wide grin—wider than she'd ever seen him smile, come to think of it. "What's up?"

"Um, well…" She took a huffing breath. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" A request that caused him to furrow his eyebrows. "Alone?"

Nino tossed Adrien a suggestive eyebrow waggle then, which Marinette supposed was justified whether Adrien looked disapproving or not.

"Of course," Adrien agreed, ever polite. Saying a goodbye to Nino, he trailed her further into the locker room. Until they were in the back, only the sound of students' voices beyond the walls puncturing the air between them.

Marinette fiddled her fingers together and tried to figure out how to start.

"I know this is kind of strange," she admitted, glancing up and meeting his curious gaze. "And, I mean, I guess it's pointless too."

Something he couldn't possibly understand, his puzzled head-cock making that clear.

"Just- I feel like I need to tell you." Closing her eyes for a moment, she ordered her thoughts before beginning again. "I haven't told anyone else yet, but I'm- I'm with someone now. A boy. Or I think I am. I will be."

Adrien's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh. Well, congratulations?"

"Uh, thanks," she replied, reaching up to fiddle with one of her pigtails. "I know we're not that close, so it's probably weird that I'm telling you…"

"You can tell me anything, Marinette," he offered, smiling softly as he did. "I'd love to be better friends with you."

She hummed. "That'd be nice," she admitted. "But, um, that's not really what I wanted to tell you. It's kind of a precursor to what I want to tell you."

"Okay…"

"So, I know we didn't get off on the best foot when you first started here." A comment which earned her his nod of agreement. "But… I always liked you. You're a really nice person, sweet even, and I kind of…"

She huffed.

"I kind of had a crush on you," she said, more relieved than she ever thought she'd be as the words left her lips. "Like, a _huge_ crush on you."

Adrien was clearly surprised however, green eyes going wide as his lips parted some.

"R-really? _You_ liked _me_?" He pointed at his own chest.

"Yes." She nodded, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. "I mean, I still do. But, um, I like someone else too. A _lot_. And he… he likes me back." She smiled despite herself. "I just wanted to tell you. I've wanted to for a while, I just couldn't get up the courage to do it." She laughed a little awkwardly.

"Wow…" Adrien said, sounding rather breathless. "I- Wow, Marinette. I'm flattered."

"Really?" she asked, cringing a bit as she did.

"Well, yeah!" He released a disbelieving laugh. "I never would have thought that of you. I mean, you're always so busy and everything. I never would have imagined someone like you could be interested in someone like me."

"Someone like you?" she asked, brows furrowing.

"Sure." He shrugged. "You're so passionate and driven. And talented. I really am flattered."

She smiled again. "Thanks."

"Actually, you've always kind of reminded me of someone else I know," he went on, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "If you'd, uh, told me before yesterday, I might have- I _definitely_ would have been interested."

"Oh…" Marinette said flatly, pursing her lips. Mostly at herself. But it didn't matter what opportunities she'd missed. She had Chat. She _wanted_ Chat. "Why the sudden change then?" she dared to ask. "What happened yesterday?"

"Oh, ah…" His own cheeks flushed pink. "Well, I kind of… I think I might be involved with someone too."

"Really?" she asked, ignoring the slight pang that went through her at his admission. She'd get over it. But, more importantly, she _wanted_ to get over it. "I'm so happy for you, Adrien."

"Thanks." He sounded almost relieved. "I mean, she's so amazing. Like you. I never would have thought she'd want anything to do with me like that. I mean, she's _way_ out of my league."

"I doubt that," Marinette replied, giggling a bit as she did.

"No, really," he persisted. "She's like… she's just…" He couldn't even get the words out, and was obviously getting flustered in his attempts to do so. Which was a feeling Marinette could definitely identify with.

"Don't worry," she cut in, stepping forward and laying a comforting hand on his arm. "Trust me, you're more than good enough."

She was thankful when—after a moment—her words seemed to visibly relax him.

"Thank you, Marinette," he said quietly. "You really are incredible. We should, uh, we should definitely hang out more."

"Sure," she agreed, nodding. "I'd like that."

His shy smile made it all worth it, Marinette feeling lighter than she had in months. And more optimistic too. She had Chat and could put Adrien behind her. It was nice, making progress somewhere. And she felt better about meeting Chat after school as well, with her crush on Adrien finally settled.

Well, almost.

She'd pulled away from him, her fingers travelling to her lips. The feeling of Chat against her echoed in her thoughts and across her skin, and probably would for a long time to come—if she could have things her way.

But… she didn't want to be left curious or wondering.

Kissing Chat was almost magical—passionate and heavy and, well, it _meant_ something.

There was no way a kiss from Adrien could measure up to that.

Right?

"Um…" Did she dare ask? Was that even okay? Yet, if she didn't do it then, she'd never know. "I do have… one favor to ask you." She flicked her gaze back up to meet his once again. "If it- If it wouldn't be too much to ask, or-or too weird…" She flared red from her neck up. "Could- could I have o-one kiss?"

She held her pointer finger up shyly, biting her bottom lip in the same moment.

"It's okay if you say no…" she added quietly.

All he was doing was blinking at her, lips parted a bit. Until a thoughtful kind of consideration dropped onto his features, making it quite clear that he was contemplating her request. Which only made the wait that much worse.

"Well…" he tapped his chin. "I guess that… that would be okay. Just one, right?"

She nodded, feeling all the more embarrassed.

But Adrien just smiled, one side of his mouth pulling the expression into a lopsided grin. "A kiss for the road, that kind of thing?" he asked.

"Yeah. That's a good way to put it," she agreed.

"Alright." He shrugged. "Can't hurt. Probably." He didn't sound totally certain, but that was no different than she felt. They both had someone else waiting, that was true. Yet, this was all it'd be. This wasn't a beginning, but an end.

Stepping forward, Adrien laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, Marinette's breath catching in her throat as she searched his gaze. She knew she was blushing, but, thankfully, so was he. Though that didn't seem to be tripping him up any. Rather, with only a second's pause while their eyes remained locked, he took a slight breath before leaning in.

Closing her eyes, Marinette balled her hands into tense fists at her sides, a shocked jolt rushing through her whole body as his lips gently pressed against her own. She'd known it was coming, and yet still she was caught off guard—unable to respond. But perhaps that was for the best. His touch was light, hesitant. Modest, and maybe even guarded. Which she didn't fault him for.

And, yet…

 _Yet_ …

There was something… achingly familiar despite his restraint. A feeling that spurred Marinette to unconsciously push in closer—to return the kiss even as he began to lean back. She managed to pull in a last taste of him all for herself, his bottom lip caught between her own two for only a second before they parted.

When she opened her eyes, she half-expected the gaze locked with her own to be the familiar cat-green of her superhero partner, and so was actually jarred with confused wonder when she encountered Adrien instead. Of course, she knew it was Adrien who she was with—who had just kissed her. But…

If she _hadn't_ known better, she would have sworn otherwise.

She blinked, uncertain what to say as they watched one another—as his gaze darted down to her lips and back up again. They still stood close, his hand resting on her shoulder. Neither backed away, though Marinette knew they probably should. But she couldn't bring herself to. And the way his hold tightened on her shoulder told her quite well that he was feeling the same way.

She wanted…

She wanted to kiss him again.

Despite what should have been a contradiction, thinking of Chat gave her courage. Swiftly—as though blown toward him by the wind—she leaned up and caught his lips with her own again. Standing on her toes, she laid her hand against his chest, daring to deepen the kiss beyond whatever barriers he'd tried to erect with the previous one.

He didn't object-

In fact, he did the exact opposite.

His previously free hand slipped around the base of her back, tugging her abruptly closer. Which caused her to gasp against him, breaking their contact just long enough to catch a single breath. Within the moment, he was slipping his lips back with hers, suddenly unguarded and demanding, which only spurred Marinette to respond in kind.

Abruptly, it didn't matter who she was _actually_ kissing. There was no doubt in her mind that the boy before her was Chat.

His kiss was still too fresh in her memory, still too vivid, for her to be mistaken.

Wrapping her fingers tightly up within the fabric of his t-shirt, she kept her mouth moving with his as she pushed forward. He stumbled, but didn't break from the kiss. Even as she pushed him back, he kept up with her, desperate even as she slammed him into the lockers nearby.

He grunted, but was hardly bothered. His arms wrapped more securely around her, body bending to meet her as she threaded her own hands up through his hair. A slight groan echoed up through his throat as her fingers massaged beneath the locks, the noise being one that Marinette intercepted hungrily.

"Uh, what the hell is this?"

The voice jabbed through them both like a dagger, Marinette aware of the way the blade split right between them. Eyes wide, she snapped away from Adrien, huffing in much-needed air as her attention flicked to the two intruders who'd come in most inopportunely.

"Okay, when Nino said he thought you were going to confess, I did not expect to walk in on you two sucking face," Alya continued. "I mean, I thought it was a best case scenario, but I didn't _actually_ think it would happen."

Behind her, Nino was buckled over, laughing.

Still trying to catch her breath, Marinette swallowed hard, unable to stop herself from side-eying Adrien. He was still leaning up against the lockers, apparently suffering the same whiplash she was.

"We didn't mean to interrupt, honest," Nino finally interjected. "We can go if you two are still, ya know, busy." He laughed again.

Adrien cleared his throat, Marinette narrowing her eyes suspiciously when that crooked grin made its way onto his face again.

"That'd be great," he replied, winking at her despite how he was supposed to be replying to Nino. "We were just beginning to get somewhere."

Marinette, though heat still thrummed through her, managed to slump her shoulders in distaste. "No thanks," she decided.

"That's _definitely_ not what you said yesterday," he rebuked smartly.

"Yesterday?!" both Nino and Alya gasped together.

"I'm beginning to regret yesterday in general," she verified.

Adrien pushed himself away from the lockers, taking a step closer to her. "I'm _paw-_ sitive that's impossible," he said confidently.

"For you, maybe," she agreed, reaching out and tapping his nose with her pointer finger. "I'm purrr-ity unforgettable."

Adrien's grin grew into a full-blown smile.

"This is disgusting," Alya stated flatly.

"For real," Nino tacked on. "I'm gonna be sick."

Both Marinette and Adrien were doing a fair job of ignoring their commentary, however.

Taking her hand in his, Adrien leaned closer before lightly kissing her cheek. "You're right, I can't forget you," he murmured, placing light, butterfly touches up toward her ear. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head all day. Couldn't last night either."

Marinette giggled, turning into him as she did. "You're a naughty kitty," she whispered.

He smiled all the wider, their noses brushing.

"But I'm _your_ kitty," he purred, before leaning in to kiss her once again.

She was more than happy to let him.


	8. Kittens and Mittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Gabriel gone for Christmas, Adrien is alone. So he decides to spend as much time as Chat Noir as possible, sleeping during the day and hunting around Paris at night. Until Marinette decides it’s time to intervene. 
> 
> Here! Have some Christmas ANGST! Actually, I wrote this a while ago and totally FORGOT ABOUT IT! Now it’s inaccurate because of the Christmas Special, but oh well. Enjoy anyway.

Christmas.

Adrien always tried to get excited about it. Frankly, it was hard not to be. The whole of Paris was festive—trees in parks, people bundled up with hot chocolate, store fronts decorated with lights and garlands. Everyone was abuzz for it all through December, planning and exchanging gifts.

Even Adrien had received a few parcels from his friends the last day before break, which was a first. Ever. Nino had gotten him the new Mecha Strike expansion, which he'd been playing religiously since. Alya had given him a pair of Ladybug socks, saying he'd mentioned them offhand a few months before (he didn't remember doing so, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the gift any less). Even Marinette had given him something, which he hadn't at all expected.

But maybe he should have.

The gloves she'd made him were perfect. Not blue, like the scarf she'd given him for his birthday, but dark green with white accents. The cookies she'd made along with them had been phenomenal as well, though he shouldn't have expected any less there either.

He'd been a little embarrassed when she'd given him the gifts, to be honest. He'd noticed her signature on the scarf a few months prior and promptly interrogated Nathalie on the subject. She'd confessed to the "mix-up" on threat of him telling his father, which would have gone over poorly for her.

His father hadn't gotten him _anything_ for his birthday—not even a stupid pen.

The only gift he'd received had been from Marinette and he'd never even thanked her for it. He'd tried to on a few occasions, but never found the right words. After all, she'd never said anything on the mistake—kept it to herself. And when he'd talked to Nino about the situation, he'd said that Marinette wouldn't want him to thank her. That Alya had told him that Marinette hadn't wanted him to know, not after seeing how happy he'd been about the gift from his "father."

To think that she'd made him another gift, despite how seemingly ignorant and ungrateful he'd been about the scarf. And he'd been so taken aback by it all—by Alya and Nino too—that he hadn't even thought to get them anything. He hadn't realized he should have.

None of them had claimed to mind, but he still felt bad. And undeserving.

But it'd been the last day of school and so he hadn't had time to rectify the mistake. Nino was with his family at their cabin outside of Paris, Alya was abroad, and Marinette, well, they didn't exactly hang out or even talk outside of school. He figured it'd be an impertinence to intrude on her holiday break.

Despite his awkwardness with the whole thing, he was beyond thrilled at the gifts. Treasured them. The scarf too, despite the conflict around the whole thing. He hadn't confronted his father—he'd known it wouldn't do any good—and so he'd pushed his birthday to the back of his mind.

After all, he'd had Christmas to think about.

Again, he'd let himself hope.

And, like every year since his mother had disappeared (even before then), his father wasn't going to make it for the holiday. Something about an emergency in Milan. To be honest, as soon as Adrien had heard the crucial part of the phone message, he'd tuned out the rest.

He was to stay home for the holiday, safely locked up. Nathalie, who never went home to any family of her own (maybe she didn't have any either?) was to keep watch over him. Keep him prisoner in his own house.

But she hardly ever checked in on him—he knew from previous years' experience—and so felt not a bit paranoid when he snuck out. He'd snuck out nearly every night since break had started. Nathalie was around during the day and the cooks expected him for his meals, so that was when he slept. Between breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But as soon as the sun was set, he was gone.

He spent all the nights alone, sure, but _out_. He traipsed along rooftops, spotting celebrations through windows as he passed. He stopped by parks and got free hot chocolate from the late-night vendors. He watched couples ice-skating and kids sledding in the dark while their parents readied them to go home. He dropped in on snowball fights and helped people who got their cars stuck in the road on the light layer of snow they'd been lucky enough to get.

When the early morning rolled around and the city grew quiet, he watched the snow. Silent and still, he simply sat in the silence. From the Eiffel Tower, from Notre Dame, from anywhere. Even in the cold, it was better than being shut up and stifled at home.

He watched the sun rise and wondered—far more often than he knew he should—what Ladybug was doing. They'd called off their patrols during the break. She had family and holiday things to do, so he'd agreed like he did too. And, thus far, Hawkmoth had been quiet.

Maybe even magical terrorists had families during the holidays.

Just not unlucky black cats.

Sighing, Chat shifted, leaning over the roof he was perched upon to get a better look at the kids running around below. They were skidding on the slushy snow, laughing and shouting, and he was just about to drop in on them, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips, when a light tapping behind had him whipping around.

Crouched, one hand raised defensively, the other reached for his staff.

"Whoa there, kitty."

"Ladybug!" he said rather stupidly, straightening as he did. He hadn't anticipated that she'd show up at all during the break, which left him blinking and unknowing what to say. Instead, he reached up and resituated his scarf around his neck, his claws poking some at the tips of his gloves. He spent so much time out, and in the coldest parts of the night, that his neck and face had needed a little extra warmth, as had his fingers even with his suit in place. He'd considered a coat, but hadn't gone quite that far yet.

"I've seen on the news that you've been lurking around, jumping out at unsuspecting children," she teased, stepping a bit closer. Her eyes dropped to his scarf, as well as his gloves. "Glad to see you're bundling up."

"Oh, ha, yeah." He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, before clearing his throat and getting a grip on his nerves. "But I'd stay even warmer with you to cuddle up against." He winked.

She rolled her eyes, reaching out and flipping the end of his scarf as she did.

"What are you doing out here all the time anyway?" she asked, slamming her fists to her hips in mock scolding. "You've been on the late news almost every night since break started. Terrorizing snowball fights and helping old ladies push their cars through the snow. You don't have to be a superhero all the time, you know."

"I like being a superhero," he countered, finally having gotten beyond his surprise at seeing her in order to let his joy sink through. "Christmas is the time to do good deeds and all that anyway, right?"

"Uh huh." Ladybug didn't look convinced, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Besides," he shrugged, "I don't have anything else to do." A comment that caused her to frown, and so he quickly stepped up to rectify the expression. "Not all of us have super busy vacation schedules you know," he explained, holding up a single finger. "Some of us are stuck at home."

"I would have thought you'd be lazing around then," she countered.

"Oh I get my fair share of cat naps. Lots of sunny places to be had in my house." Which was true with the plethora of windows.

Offering Ladybug a confident smirk, he then turned back around, trying to focus in on the street. But the kids were gone. Which left him to Ladybug's curiously scrutinizing gaze.

"Doesn't your… family wonder where you are?" she asked after a heavy pause.

Chat allowed a light huff to leave his lips before he crouched down and pretended to stare at the building across the street.

"Nobody knows I'm out here," he replied cryptically.

"Yeah, but…" She sighed, coming up beside him before sitting down with her legs crossed beneath her. "I've heard people saying you're staying out until the sun comes up." A fact to which he didn't know how to respond. "Chat… What's going on? I thought you said you were busy during the break."

"You said _you_ were," he said shortly. "I just agreed."

She frowned again.

"What does it matter?" he asked, finally looking her way. "I'm having fun. And I know you're busy, so don't worry about little ol' me. I'm just… filling time." Not like he was the only kid that didn't have anything to do during the break. Plenty of his peers stayed home and chilled, or so he figured.

Yet, she didn't look convinced.

"It's Christmas Eve tomorrow," she murmured. "You're going to be busy then, right?"

He didn't want to lie, not outright. So he said nothing.

"Busy with your… with your family?"

The words came rushing out before he could stop them—things he'd never say as Adrien, but that slipped through as Chat. It was easier, somehow, facing the truth when he was masked and unknown. Safer than when he was sitting alone in his father's mansion, waiting for the world to pass him by.

"Not all of us have families to be busy with."

His tone was cold, sharp even, and he regretted not only the words, but the way in which he'd said them as soon as they'd left his tongue. But it was done and he couldn't take them back. So instead he bit his lip and took a deep breath.

"Oh…" Ladybug said softly, twisting her fingers together in her lap.

"Don't concern yourself with me, My Lady," he murmured a second later, doing his best to offer up a small smile. "I'm purr-occupying myself just fine."

"What about Christmas?" Yet, she pushed. "You're doing something for Christmas, right?"

Chat sighed. He wasn't annoyed at her pestering, but it… wasn't exactly something he wanted to think about.

Though he always tried to be excited about the holidays, Christmas usually ended up being one of the saddest days of the year for him, the one upcoming looking no different. He knew it was stupid—that Christmas really wasn't any different than any other day—but he always ended up alone in his room, usually crying despite how he tried not to.

Which was something she didn't need to know.

"Yeah, I've got something going on for Christmas," he lied. "Of course I do. My father will be around then, so it'll be… It'll be fine. Great. It always is. Like I said, don't worry about me."

"Right…" Ladybug bit her bottom lip. "Well, I just… I was worried. But it seems it was over nothing." She finally smiled fully up at him. "I, um, I should get back home, then." She gestured to the side before getting to her feet. He did the same, doing all he could to stop himself from begging her to stay. "Stay warm, okay, kitty?" she said lastly, before reaching out to tug on his scarf.

He nodded, the two sharing in one last, small smile before she was bounding off. Chat watched her until she disappeared, before swallowing hard and turning back to the street below.

He shivered, feeling colder than he had all week.

 

**oOo**

 

Marinette was worried. She was very, very worried.

At first she'd been a bit panicked. Seeing Chat on the news wearing the scarf and gloves she'd made Adrien had sent her into a bit of a crisis, but she'd pretty much gotten over that. After all, Chat was her friend and so was Adrien. That they were the same person was surprising, but not what she'd consider a bad thing. Really, all it'd done was hammer home how little she'd known about both of them, mostly Adrien.

Which was when the worry had started. While she sometimes found Chat annoying, he was still one of her best friends and it was rather alarming that Adrien was so subdued by comparison. She'd always thought Adrien was rather quiet and kept to himself, but Chat could talk a million miles a minute without stopping for a single breath, all the while bothering her as well as the people they saved (though with a certain degree of charm, to his credit). She'd never considered that Chat would be so seemingly opposite as a civilian, which was what fueled a good chunk of her concern.

It was basically common knowledge—to those who bothered to care—that Adrien's home life wasn't… that great. Nino had mentioned on several occasions that Gabriel Agreste was a nasty piece of work and that Adrien spent a great deal of time alone or doing things he didn't want to. Marinette had always felt bad, but Adrien had rarely seemed outwardly bothered, so she'd never pursued the subject.

But knowing Chat—knowing how fun-loving and warm he was, as well as how goofy and silly—made her second-guess her understanding. Maybe Adrien wasn't outwardly miserable, and maybe Chat did put on a bit of a show, but the difference between the two told her a considerable amount more than she would have liked. Of course both were kind, respectable, and considerate, but she never would have fathomed they could be the same person. At least, not until she was faced with that very fact.

Adrien wasn't the type to complain. Neither was Chat. He dealt with his problems without being a burden on others. Which was likely the biggest problem as of that moment.

She knew Chat had lied to her. It'd been in some article recently that Gabriel Agreste would be in Milan until after the holiday. She'd figured Adrien would be spending time either with him or with other family, but it would seem that assumption had been way off.

The fact that Chat had lied about his father told her more than enough.

She'd always thought Adrien was a bit lonely, a bit sad, which had made sense with his mother and his home life. But she'd never imagined that _Chat_ would lead that life. It broke her heart even more, knowing that her kitty—her playful, funny, charming, charismatic Chaton—was trying to find things to do during his break because he had nothing else.

When she'd wondered at the kind of life Chat led as a civilian, she'd always pictured some rambunctious jokester from a big, loud family with tons of friends. She'd assumed that his discipline and dedication to being a superhero was something he'd adopted when he'd been given the responsibility—always the type to rise to the challenge.

She'd never fathomed that his obnoxious attitude had come with the cat package too. Or, rather, that being Chat Noir had given him the freedom to let go.

Because that's what she realized Adrien did. He restrained himself. She'd seen it the day before in Chat too, when he'd lied to her. For whatever reason—image, being shy, loneliness—he subdued himself when he felt it wasn't appropriate to let go.

Awake with such thoughts, she waited until her parents went to bed on Christmas Eve—late as it was—before suiting up and swinging off into the city. She looked for Chat in all their regular places, scanning the rooftops in vain attempts to find him in the darkness. But her search left her breathing hard and without any trace of her partner.

It wasn't until she was swinging home again, passing his mansion in the process, that she supposed it was possible he hadn't been out at all.

Touching down quietly atop the roof of the big house, she crept toward the edge and peered down along the large windows she knew lined a wall of his bedroom. But the angle hardly allowed for a proper view, so she was soon dropping down the side, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

She didn't have to do much more sneaking in order to find him.

He was there, before the window. Sitting backward in what looked like a rolling desk chair, he had his arms folded over the top as a chin rest.

Based on his half-lidded, unfazed expression, he didn't know she was there. Which was probably for the best. He wouldn't like that she'd seen him then, not as he was.

So hunched and hopeless, and with quiet tears streaming unhindered down his cheeks.

The sight caused her heart to ache, throat running dry as she blinked rapidly against her own surging emotions. There were no dramatics, no sniffing or sobbing. Just… static misery. Far too much like it was normal and expected, and not worth fighting.

She had to do something. She couldn't leave him like that.

Watching for only a moment longer, she soon sprung back up onto the roof. Crouching there, she took a moment to gather her nerves before she swung her way across the street and sprinted down the long roof to her balcony. She was willing her way out of her transformation as she hit the deck, before quickly dropping down through the skylight. Closing out the cold, she was pulling her phone from her pocket as she plopped down onto the bed.

She located Adrien's contact before opening a new message, Tikki flitting off to eat the cookies sitting on a plate at her work station.

He was still awake. Though it was Christmas Eve and rather short notice, she couldn't abandon him. Still, she didn't want to come off too strongly either. He didn't know she was Ladybug, after all.

So she started things simply.

**Marinette – Hey, are you still awake?**

It took a few moments, but he did eventually reply.

_Adrien – Yes. Who is this?_

Right. She had his number, but he didn't have hers. Likely her digits were in his history, but that didn't tell him her identity.

**Marinette – It's Marinette. Sorry, forgot you don't have my number.**

_Adrien – Oh! Hey, Marinette :) Yeah, I'm awake. Is something wrong?_

Yes! Something was horribly wrong! So wrong that it made her blood boil.

**Marinette – No. I was just wondering what you were doing for the holidays.**

An odd question for one in the morning on Christmas Eve, but she didn't care.

_Adrien – Uh, normal stuff. Why?_

Gripping her phone hard, Marinette glared at the chat box. Liar, liar, liar. Which, from his position, was justified. It wasn't any of her business what went on in his personal life—Adrien and Marinette weren't close. But Chat and Ladybug were, despite how they danced around their identities. She wasn't going to give up.

**Marinette – Are you in Milan?**

_Adrien – Why?_

**Marinette –That's where your father is.**

It took him some time to respond to that one.

_Adrien – Why are you asking me all these questions? It's past midnight :/_

And it was none of her business.

Leaning back in bed, Marinette chewed on her bottom lip. Adrien wouldn't appreciate her prying into his personal business—he was too private for that. Which meant that she threatened what little friendship they had with her actions.

Unless, of course, she could change how he perceived her.

**Marinette – Because you're lying to me.**

It'd always been safer, keeping their identities secret. Less to know meant less Hawkmoth could find out. But it'd been just as much about her own selfishness too. She'd wanted to keep Chat at a distance, afraid that letting him close would change how she looked at him, how she felt. But it was too late for that—he was _Adrien_.

No point in fighting a battle when there didn't have to be one. Besides, it wasn't fair that she knew his identity, yet he didn't know hers. _Especially_ if she was going to butt in where she wasn't welcome.

_Adrien – Excuse me?_

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself.

**Marinette –I know I haven't always been very encouraging about us being personal with one another, and I know I'm wrong to expect it of you suddenly, but I do wish you'd told me you were alone for the holiday. Our secret identities aren't as important as your well-being.**

He wasn't stupid—he'd know just as well as she did what her words implied. Even if it did take him almost a full three minutes to respond.

_Adrien – You're Ladybug._

_Adrien – How long have you known?_

**Marinette – Since I saw you on the news wearing the gloves I made you. You're lucky Alya and Nino are out of town and that no one else would probably realize they're the same ones. Not the best idea you've ever had.**

_Adrien – My fingers were cold…_

**Marinette – Like you don't have a pair of gloves that are less conspicuous.**

_Adrien – I wanted to wear the ones you gave me… :(_

_Adrien – Sorry. I just…_

_Adrien – I don't get gifts that often. You're right. I shouldn't have worn them. It was stupid._

**Marinette – It's not stupid…**

**Marinette – I'm sorry I scolded you. You just… worry me.**

_Adrien – I'm beginning to get that._

**Marinette – Good. Now stop lying to me. Your father's out of town. What are you doing tomorrow? And don't try to act all selfless by pretending like everything's fine. I'll** _**know** _ **. And if you're not honest, I'll come over there and pinch your ears until you are.**

_Adrien – That's animal cruelty._

**Marinette – You can't joke your way out of this one, kitty.**

_Adrien – Would an impressive display of my punning abilities be enough to get you to drop the subject?_

**Marinette – No.**

_Adrien – Tough crowd._

**Marinette – :(**

**Marinette – Seriously, Chat. I'm really worried about you.**

_Adrien – You needn't be, My Lady. I'll spend tomorrow the same way I always do. Besides, knowing your identity is more than enough to get me through the holidays._

**Marinette – No it's not. You deserve better.**

**Marinette – You're really not doing anything tomorrow, are you? You are alone…**

_Adrien – I'm used to it, really :)_

**Marinette – I don't care if you're used to it. You're not spending Christmas alone. You're my best friend, Chat. And my partner.**

**Marinette – You're coming to my house tomorrow. My parents won't mind.**

_Adrien – Uh, while that's nice, I'm technically not allowed to leave the house._

**Marinette – …**

_Adrien – Good point._

**Marinette – You're coming to my house tomorrow even if I have to drag you.**

_Adrien – You know, I fully expect to get that kind of threat from Ladybug, but I'm honestly surprised at you, Marinette. How dare you talk to the son of Gabriel Agreste that way._

**Marinette – Gag me.**

_Adrien – Are you really wanting to discuss your bedroom interests right now? Because I think we're moving a little fast._

**Marinette – You really are a skeeze. I'm so disappointed.**

_Adrien – Disappointed?! Elaborate please._

**Marinette – Well, here I thought Adrien Agreste was a respectable, nice young man that didn't like stupid puns or running around in a skin-tight cat suit, but it seems I was sorely mistaken.**

_Adrien – Indeed. I have an avid love of both stupid and intelligent puns, and I'm quite fond of my cat suit. It's very freeing. I'm also a fan of walking around naked when I can manage it, in case you were wondering._

**Marinette – I wasn't.**

_Adrien – Well, feel free to think about it at your earliest convenience._

**Marinette – Why is this my life…?**

_Adrien – Lol!_

_Adrien – You're not really disappointed, are you?_

Despite previously scowling, Marinette found herself smiling gently at his question.

**Marinette – No, kitty, I'm not. You never disappoint me.**

**Marinette – Except when you make bad jokes.**

_Adrien – Well, none of my jokes are bad, so…_

**Marinette – I'm rolling my eyes—in case you didn't already know.**

_Adrien – Okay,_ _**anyway** _ _._

Marinette giggled, beyond thankful that the conversation had turned around for the better.

**Marinette – So it's decided then, right? You're coming to my house tomorrow?**

_Adrien – I… guess so. You're not really giving me a choice, are you?_

**Marinette – No, not really ;D**

_Adrien – Well, when my father asks why I wasn't where I was supposed to be, I'll blame you._

**Marinette – Turns out your quite often not where you're supposed to be.**

_Adrien – Yeah, but my father doesn't know that._

_Adrien – Only you know that…_

**Marinette – Our little secret, hmm?**

_Adrien – Yeah :)_

_Adrien – Our secret._

Blushing despite herself, Marinette tried to think of something else to type, but was at a loss for words. She'd accomplished what she'd set out to do, which meant all that was left was to reason with was the fact that Adrien—Chat Noir or not—was going to be at her house for Christmas and she had to make sure it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a little late for the holidays, but oh well.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr--SKayLanphear
> 
> Please leave reviews if you can :)


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